


The Doctor’s Debts

by Aeris_Blue



Series: The Doctor’s Fate [2]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Amnesia?, Depressive Thoughts, Family, Helpful to a fault, Post pacifist, Self Loathing, Sense of Self, Surface Life, Threats, everybody’s got it!, friends - Freeform, zero self confidence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeris_Blue/pseuds/Aeris_Blue
Summary: The Doctor’s Debts follows Frisk as they try to help a monster they found behind a strange door in Waterfall. Frisk takes their new friend up to the Surface to meet all of their family who are a bit unsure of their new friend.





	1. Deep in the Underground

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again!
> 
> This is a continuation of The Doctor’s Charges but if I did my job right you shouldn’t HAVE to read that first. I’m going to wait an update or two before I list them as part of a series.
> 
> I plan on updating this every other week.

Frisk walked casually along the sidewalk outside of school. It was a rare day that they had to walk home by themselves but sometimes the solitude was nice as it gave them the opportunity to do other things. 

They carefully toed a snail to the side of the pathway so none of the other human kids could stomp on them or one of the monster students from having a quick after class snack. Once the snail was safely escorted off of the path most traveled by Frisk pat the top of its’ shell gently before they continued on their way.

The leaves were that brilliant orange that made them crunch pleasantly under foot. Of course there wasn’t much point in passing up the opportunity to stomp on the pile that had grown up along the curb. They flattened effortlessly the crinkling accompanied by the earthy scent of the season.

This was their favorite time of year. The wind always smelled great when it tugged at your thick comfy sweaters, the sky was orange with leaves, and the sunsets painted the sky in shades of red.

They furrowed their brows for a moment as a reminder that they needed to concentrate. There was only so much time to get up the mountain and back before mom started to worry. Their backpack slipped effortlessly into a  _ front-- _ pack as they dug around for the little metal lunch box. 

It was cold to the touch despite having been in their bag all day. The snaps slid to the side with a tinny thunk before the lid popped open. Good, it was still safe. They hadn’t ever tried to visit their friend right after school before because they didn’t want their mom to worry but last time- well. The metal box was sealed then placed in the bag, it just seemed like they really needed a pick me up.

Frisk was almost to the monster settlement at the base of the mountain when the hair on their arms stood on end. Their heart beat just a little bit harsher in their chest with recognition: they were being followed. Stay calm. Once they were inside Camp there would be far too many cheery upbeat monsters for someone not to notice if something was amiss. They quickened their pace.

Their follower wasn’t that far behind them. Just barely enough to stay out of their peripheral but not enough to hide every step made in the dried up grass. It was a slow, precise stride, that moved only with the same urgency as Frisk. This felt. Familiar.

Quickly they reached into their backpack’s side pocket and extended their hand behind them. A soft  _ pfth  _ noise escaped as the pursuing monster’s arm deflected the swift movement. The skeleton stalker’s eye sockets wrinkled up into a smile, “yup, it’s always funny.”

The Whoopie cushion was returned to the backpack so they could sign properly. ‘You know you don’t have to follow me around? You could say: hey kid, how ya doing, mind if I walk with ya? Or: hey my brothers great, we’re going the same way, anything at all would work.’

“Eh, I’m fond of the classics,” he shrugged. For a monster who was done with the past he sure clung to it awfully tight. “Hate to be the one to remind ya but you live with Toriel not too far from the school you left.”

‘Says the one that gets lost going to Grillby’s,’ they folded their arms to emphasize their sass before a bit of guilt edged into their soul. Sans had a lot harder of a time adapting to the surface than just about anyone else, they knew it was their fault. They had no right to jest.

Sans chuckled, “fair enough. But ya know if somethin’ happens to you when you slip into the Underground, and I saw you heading that way? Tori would have a real  _ bone to pick  _ with me.”

‘Yeah,’ Frisk nodded, ‘there are a lot of options to pick from, it would be a rather difficult decision.’

He snorted then quickly covered his mouth, “alright that was pretty quick, ya got me. In all seriousness though kid why are you headin’ up there?”

Frisk looked up the mountain, ‘I have a friend I met while everyone was down there still. They don’t have anyone to talk to so-’

“So you go up there to keep ‘em company,” he put his hands in his coat pockets to distract from the way his shoulders drooped, “fair enough. Mind if I go with ya?” 

Frisk gave him a scrutinizing glance, since when did he like to go on hikes up the mountainside?

“Don’t look at me like that kid,” he fluffed up their already messy hair, “it's’ gonna be dark soon and the mountain can be dangerous.”

‘Oh, and you’re gonna protect me?’ Frisk mused while they started onto the trail.

“Nah but I don’t want to tell Tori her kid was eaten by a bear.”

‘Are you shortcutting again?’ It was a power Sans was borderline abusive of in the Underground. Most of the time he was just a few steps away from wherever it was he needed to go, but  even that seemed like too much effort. Since coming to the surface though Sans had sworn off shortcuts.

“Uh, no,” his eyelights averted to the ground for a moment, “kinda promised Paps I wouldn’t try at all unless he was around.”

Frisk covered their mouth, ‘you made a promise?’

“Hey I’m a completely different monster on the surface, look at my stylish attire,” he spun a tight circle as he modeled his blue winter coat, that was barely different from the jacket he wore in the Underground, and a pair of black pants. They applauded his simple modeling show anyways if only to drive home the joke. “Thank you,” he winked.

‘You can come but…’ How were they even supposed to describe them? As skittish as they were it would probably be for the best not to crowd them with attention. ‘You have to wait outside okay?’ They signed as seriously as they could muster.

“They ain’t like that plant are they?”

For a moment the world flickered gray and cold, Flowey. How many times had they tried to help them? How many resets, how many happy endings, had they wasted trying to find a way to get Asriel back? Flowey wasn’t Asriel. It was a lesson that had been beaten into them at this point but the pair came to an agreeance and this was the longest run yet because of it. ‘No, they aren’t like him.’

“Alright, I trust ya.”

Another pang of that sickening squirming sensation as Frisk tried to figure out if the perpetual grin of the stout skeleton was genuine or not. No matter how many resets, no matter how long they spent together, Frisk felt they would never really understand either of their skeleton friends.

As a distraction to their own thoughts they picked up a long stick to assist in their march up the mountainside. Monster’s had beaten out a pretty well trodden path during their move to the surface but it still grew rather steep in places. It wasn’t much of a problem for Frisk but Sans struggled with the cliff sides so they used the stick in place of a rope to help pull him up. 

After a while Sans stopped to watch the water trickle lazily along a stream with an almost wistful look in his sockets. When he noticed Frisk staring he quickly forced himself out of whatever train of thought he was on. Which was a shame.

When Sans was at ease his smile felt a lot more real. Sometimes he would snort at a bad joke, or actually laugh, but just a plain simple smile seemed odd to have never seen. Frisk pressed their lips together as they wondered what it would take.

Sans flinched as Frisk smashed their puffed out cheeks between their hands and stuck out their tongue making as ridiculous of an expression as they could muster, “what’s that about kid?”

Frisk pouted, ‘nothing.’

The path was long and it felt all the more lengthy when they were climbing against the setting sun. Shadows seemed to reach their destination faster than they did only to stretch along the path to see where they were. Such social creatures shadows were. Sans paused again on an overpass to stare at the rays of the sun, “everything’s so orange. It’s hard to believe it’s gonna be winter soon.” His voice grew softer as he turned back to the path, “I doubt I’ll ever get used to it.”

Frisk smiled, ‘ _ winter _ you going to get used to the seasons?’

“Okay kid up and  _ autumn  _ if we wanna get to the top before the sun goes down,” he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Frisk chuckled lightly into their hand, ‘hey, I hate to  _ spring  _ this on you but can you call mom at the top?’

“Yeah probably gonna have to do that  _ summer _ or later,” he sealed his sockets as he chuckled, “who cursed you with such an un _ seasonable _ sense of humor kid?”

‘Probably my  _ pun _ cle,’ they smiled unapologetically as they elbowed his ribs.

“Heh.” Came the single syllable response.

All that just received a simple acknowledgement. Either Sans was deep in thought about something or they needed to work on their wordplay.

Finally they reached the top just as the sun bashfully tucked its’ head behind the forest. The sky was still painted in fantastic colors even as the stars began to edge them away behind their velvet blue curtain. ‘I’m just going to be a little bit okay?’

“Hey after hiking up the mountainside you really think I’m going anywhere anytime soon?” He happily slunk to the ground to take in the view.

Fair enough, Frisk smirked as they started into the Underground. It was so odd being down here without anyone else in sight. The atmosphere felt as if it had been abandoned for centuries, not years. Areas that once bolstered a multitude of monsters prepared for battle at the slightest off set were now lonely corridors along abandoned ruins. 

As they passed the labs they noticed rust beginning to eat away at the exterior which allowed the shining silver to finally blend in with the crags around it. It hardly seemed like a place where amazing developments were made from scrap and will.

Most monsters had made their way to the Surface however, the River Person, and their infamous boat, still bobbed against the landing of Hotlands. Frisk cleared their throat, their soft voice just barely managed to squeak out “Snowdin” loud enough for the monster to hear. In all of their runs through the Underground they’d heard every bit of the River Person’s dialogue and all the tricks their little boat could perform. 

It was just another routine. 

Still, River Person was… unique. They never once challenged Frisk no matter what route they chose. Their dialogue never changed, or grew important, as time went on. It was as if they weren’t aware of what went on outside of the river. River Person was the only monster that seemed to be completely unaware that the resets were over and that life had moved on. Every time they visited the boat since it was one of the same things they’d always said. Not that it ever made sense anyways.

Frisk was surprised when the boat docked against Snowdin and their escort had yet to singsong a single phrase. Their fingers curled out awkwardly in a half hearted wave but as they turned to head towards the Waterfall entrance River Person finally spoke, “face to face across time and space what do you two think?”

That was… new. They turned around sharply to see the cloaked face staring straight along the water’s way. There hadn’t ever been much of a point in their nonsense before, so why were they paying heed now? They knit their brows together in thought as they turned back towards Snowdin.

Before much longer the sound of snow crunching underfoot wasn’t going to be a rare occurrence but in the offseason it was pleasant to feel that down to the bone chilly when you knew you’d be warm shortly after. Though, they really weren’t dressed for it, Frisk picked their knees up high as they marched through the snow towards Waterfall pausing to peek into the window of Grillby’s.

The flame had a really hard time with the surface at first and whenever it got him down he’d return to his Underground bar just to spruce up the place. It seemed he couldn’t bear the thought of it falling to waste. Or maybe cleaning was just how he relieved stress. 

Through the frosted window they could see a thin layer of grime atop the tables, Some chairs were out of their proper alignment, and there were no glasses on the shelves behind the bar. As lonely as it looked it meant the Surface Grillby’s was still going really well. They’d never had much of a conversation with the bartender but Sans insisted he was a good monster, just not very talkative.

Their phone jangled a chime in their pocket that indicated it was the time when Toriel got home. Hopefully Sans didn’t fall asleep before calling her, the last thing Frisk wanted was for her to worry more than she already did. Frisk made haste to exit the silent town of Snowdin.

The hallway was the same as it always looked when it would randomly appear but ever since the door left it seemed it was always waiting to be traversed. Crouched down against the floor was a monster whose form hung like a black sheet, they wore what appeared to be a white mask, and a pair of floating puppet hands always roamed freely about them. Frisk still wasn’t sure what they were but they were always happy to see them.

During Frisk’s varying runs through the Underground they would encounter the mysterious gray door in the vanishing hallway of Waterfall. Curiosity forced them to pry open the door only to find a ghostly figure that startled away from them the moment they approached. It stood out because it always seemed so random but it really wasn’t anything terribly exciting. They were actually surprised more monsters didn’t respond like that when they would barge into their homes. 

Even though the reward wasn’t anything grand or exciting they felt compelled to open the door every time they saw it. Which really wasn’t too often. But the door itself seemed to hum with something otherworldly that mocked the world around it with the knowledge locked behind it. Over and over again they would ask the gray door to reveal its’ secrets only to meet the socially awkward ghost.

Until eventually an idea struck them, they left the door open: just a crack, barely enough for Waterfall’s dull blue lighting to sluggishly leak into the stranger’s room. When they left the area and returned the door was as they left it. 

When monster’s were freed for what would be the last time Frisk kept waiting to hear of the monster from behind the door or see them in Camp but they never did. Surely it had a family or something that was looking for it.

It wasn’t until months after life started on the surface that they found the time to come back to the Underground only to find it still gently cracked open and the shadow like monster standing in the open chamber as if they didn’t know anything. So Frisk told them but they didn’t respond, didn’t move, their single white dot of an eye just followed their hands without meaning.

That was that. They never responded, never did anything but watch, until one visit when Frisk brought a cinnabunny to munch on while they talked at what might as well be a slightly more mobile wall. Something changed: their smile grew soft and another light formed in the empty right eye as they focused on the pastry. Gently the disembodied hands reached for it but it slipped through their phantom fingers. Still, Frisk left the bunny there with them since it made them look so happy. Since then Frisk brought a cinnabunny every visit until finally there were enough to coax them outside of their room.

Frisk crouched in front of the monster and watched them analyze their group of cinnabunnies. Ever so carefully they uncurled one of their spindly white fingers to gently nudge one into its’ proper space. That was… New.

Now that they were looking at them this close Frisk recognized they couldn’t see through them anymore. The black of their eyes as well as the two paint lines now seemed like cracks and chasms with actual depth. Almost skeletal, but not quite. With a teasing grin Frisk turned one of the cinnabunnies to face in a different direction then the others.

The white face looked up to Frisk in a disapproving manner before they moved the bunny back into place. ‘How are you today?’

‘Touch, touch,’ they signed pointing their middle finger over the whole in their left hand.

‘That’s a new sign,’ Frisk smiled, ‘how’d you learn that one?’ Their eyes grew distant with thought before their palms turned upwards in a shoulderless shrug. Every time Frisk visited the monster they were just a little bit different. Normally just a bit smarter, capable of holding conversations for longer periods of time, but this was the first time they were physically different.

Their friend positioned themselves to sit against the section of wall their door had once been, their chest heaved a heavy sigh even if no sound actually escaped them. ‘Are you still sad?’

The monster looked at the wall above them then down to their hands, ‘home is gone.’ 

‘It might come back,’ Frisk smiled optimistically. Almost the second after Frisk had coaxed them outside of the room the door shut behind them and disappeared from the hallway.

Their friend buried their face with their hands, luckily, the holes in their palm allowed them to still see the signs, ‘hey, hey,’ they placed a hand against them surprised at the cold they were like a stationary shadow on a blistering hot day. They shook their head frantically in a quick dismissal of the contact. 

They pulled out the metal box from their backpack, inside was another cinnabunny and a few glossy home printed photographs. ‘I brought something to show you.’

Friend peeked curiously over Frisk’s shoulders to see the images. There it was, a successful distraction. They didn’t know enough about the monster to make them genuinely happy but they couldn’t stand to see them sulk.

‘These are all of my friends I’ve been telling you about!’ The mystery monster took the image in hand, ‘This is my mom, she’s very nice and a good cook.’ Frisk pointed to Toriel then signed ‘goat mom’ for their name.

They seemed intent on saying something as they looked panicked around to the ground, then to the picture, and back before they rested the paper against them to sign, ‘Where’s her door?’

Frisk’s mind blanked as they tried to figure out what that was supposed to mean, ‘that’s our house in the background.’ 

‘Soft,’ they signed in conclusion as they passed the picture back.

‘Yeah she’s really soft,’ Frisk smiled fondly then pulled out the next picture, ‘this is Undyne,’ signed as strong fish, ‘and Alphys,’ smart lizard. It was a picture the three of them took at Ebott lake. Alphys was posing with a wink and her fingers in a peace sign over her bespectacled eyes while Undyne held a boulder Frisk was clinging desperately to above their head.

Their friend smiled softly, ‘so loud,’ he recited from the previous stories of Undyne’s exploits.

‘Yeah but she’s a lot of fun,’ Frisk assured them. ‘Oh and here’s goat dad,’ they switched the lake picture out for one of Asgore tending to his garden.

When they came to the surface he started with a small greenhouse but it quickly became better tended to then his own house. The garden was decorated with more colors and scents then a person could dream of. Every plant was cared for with the delicate care of a first time parent to their child.

They held the photo exceptionally close to their face with their dark eyes narrowed into a glare. ‘Why is he sad?’

Frisk studied the picture, it was one of the happiest they had of the old King of monsters, he was smiling so broadly magic sparked in his eyes. ‘He’s happy,’ they corrected, ‘see? He’s smiling.’

‘Oh,’ they seemed to consider this, ‘happy,’ their black line of a mouth turned up into a smile like Asgore’s, ‘he is happy.’

‘Yeah, it took a long time but I think he’s finally there. A lot of bad stuff happened to him but he stayed determined and now he has the greatest backyard garden in the world!’ They signed enthusiastically. 

‘Good!’

‘And this is Sans,’ lazy bones, ‘and Papyrus,’ cool skeleton, ‘in front of their new house, though it looks a lot like their old one.’ Frisk extended the picture to Friend but their fingers recoiled away quickly as if the paper wished to harm them.

‘What’s wrong?’ Their expression reminiscent of a computer that had shut down, ‘Friend?’

The gentle pull of the waters of waterfall filled the empty cavern with some semblance of life as Frisk waited patiently for them to say something. Friend’s hands sat clenched against the floor; their expression vacant of the white inside their eye. ‘Friend?’ They tried again.

Slowly, the white dot resurfaced, ‘they are good boys.’

‘Yeah! Papyrus is super cool, he’s the Mascot of Monsterdom, and really good at his job. Who doesn’t like a cuddly skeleton?’

A sharp smile teased across their face, ‘skeletons aren’t cuddly.’

‘Then you haven’t met Papyrus! And his brother Sans- well,’ how did one describe Sans? ‘Well, he’s funny, if you think bad puns are funny. He’s really smart but he’s a bit too lazy to show it off.’

They slowly reached out to brush a finger against the side of each of their skulls, ‘very good boys.’

Frisk nodded in agreeance, ‘here we all are together,’ they switched the image of the skeleton brothers out for the big group shot of everyone on the surface for the first time. 

For a moment they thought their friend had shut down again but when they looked over to them they were rubbing at their black eyes as if they were crying. ‘Friend?’

‘It’s a family,’ they signed in between swipes of their face, ‘they are so happy.’

Yeah, they really were one big happy family. This was the best possible ending after all: Everyone together and happy. There were still a few missing links and fuzzy lines but Frisk had stopped trying to make everything perfect. The smiles in this picture were perfect enough.

‘I like your family Frisk,’ they smiled but it seemed about as genuine as Sans’s. They looked over to their army of cinnabunnies: one for each time Frisk had visited them since their door back home went away.

‘Maybe you can meet them sometime,’ they smiled but their heart stuttered at the wide excessive smile from their friend.

‘I can meet friends?’

‘Do you want to?’

‘I very much want to! I want to meet the family of Frisk! I want friends and smiling pictures!’

‘Are you sure?’ They didn’t want to point it out but the monster was rather easily intimidated by just about anything. They went wide eyed at cattails, flinched at the sudden light of a crystal, cowered at any sudden noise, Frisk just didn’t think they would do very well on the surface.

They frowned, ‘I don’t like waiting for Frisk.’

‘The surface is really loud and bright.’

This seemed to deter them, ‘You will be there.’ Frisk gave a tide lipped crisp nod that Friend impersonated, ‘then I will be fine!’

‘It’s not that simple,’ Frisk tried to assure them and it seemed their argument finally sunk in as the monster stared resigned at the navy hall across from them. ‘I’ll come back just like I always do!’ They smiled but their friend didn’t look over to see it, ‘some other time,’ they tried.

They leaned their head heavily over to focus on Frisk, ‘I’ve waited a long time,’ exhaustion read across their minimalistic features as if they were an entity older than time itself. Frisk felt a cold chill freckle in goose bumps across their skin as the monster lifted their head to stare at the ceiling.

Frisk sat stunned for a good while as they thought over everything they knew about the monster, ‘what’s your name?’ They felt ignored for a long while until they saw their friend’s features fixed in a perplexed expression. Gradually their palms turned upward and their head drooped. Same answer as always.

Here they’d come all this way to cheer them up and they ended up in the same place as last time. Frisk had told them later then too. If they wanted to go to the surface why should Frisk tell them no? The surface didn’t agree with every monster but they got to try on their own and their friend wouldn’t be alone! They would be right beside them to help out however they can.

The thought of Friend happy on the Surface filled them with determination.


	2. Of Strangers and Stranger Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk leads Friend out of the Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t even tell you how much I appreciated the comments last week! I thought after getting one multi-chapter fic out of the way I’d be core certain... but no ^^’ it was also cool seeing new and old user names showing up on the Kudos!
> 
> This chapter is a little on the long side whoops

The journey to the River Person’s landing had been as tedious as Frisk anticipated. A glowing crystal would force Friend to flinch away in a manner similar to drapes being pulled away from your window while you slept. Reeds that tickled at their form would cause them to fidget like a glitch in a computer before they would shutter away. The plunk of water dripping from the ceiling down into a puddle below would force them to huddle behind Frisk as if they were a child seeking shelter from a parent. Sometimes, for no reason at all, they just froze, forgetting what they were doing entirely.

Yet, every time Frisk suggested taking them back to their usual spot they would shake their head. There was a determination to their friend that Frisk respected but it was making them more fearful of how overwhelming the Surface was going to be.

All of Friend’s fear and hesitation seemed to fade after they boarded the River Person’s boat. The glistening water, the tug off the wind, even the slight rock from the waves, suddenly seemed to be nothing.

Frisk thought maybe friend just liked sailing but once they disembarked Friend seemed far too distracted to notice the smoldering heat or the glowing magma pools. Their way from Hotland to the Capital took considerably less time thanks to that but it was a bit off putting that they could change so suddenly-- well, more than they already had.

Nearly at the cave’s entrance Friend froze. ‘We’re almost there!’

‘I’m tired,’ they signed in a hasty forced manner.

‘We came all this way, I thought you wanted to meet everyone.’

They shook their head no before signing the contrary.

‘Hey,’ they placed their hand gently on top of theirs and looked into their dark eyes watching the white dots fuss about the place. ‘Tell me if something is wrong okay?’

Friend didn’t seem terribly interested in supplying an answer.

With a soft tuft of a sigh Frisk moved to the mouth of the cavern to see two silhouettes cast against the silvery moon. One was the short and stout shadow they had been expecting but the other was tall and thin with wide shoulders. Frisk smiled pleasantly as they watched the brothers talk their sockets pointed skyward.

They really weren’t surprised to find Papyrus had scaled the mountain after them. There wasn’t a doubt in their mind that he’d come to make sure his lazy bones, easily winded, sloth of a brother was alright after such a feat. Despite their bickering the pair seemed inseparable and after all of the trials they’d endured together Frisk was delighted to see them be able to relax so much.

‘Friend! You’ll get to meet Sans and his brother Papyrus!’

Friend seemed a bit preoccupied with fidgeting their fingers to notice. Well then, surely they wouldn’t notice them slip out for a moment.

Papyrus smiled over to them cutting off whatever he’d been talking about rather sharply, “Oh, hello human I hope-” He was wearing a white crop jean jacket with a long sleeved yellow shirt under it. On the Surface Papyrus had developed quite the extensive wardrobe but the red scarf seemed was the lynchpin of his best ensembles.

They put their finger to their lips in the universal sign for quiet. He tapped his teeth together, ‘is something wrong?’ He signed quickly.

‘No, nothing is wrong,’ they looked leerily over to Sans, ‘my friend just wants to say hi! But they’re a little shy and sensitive to sounds.’ Papyrus quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment knowing full well what Frisk was requesting.

“Kid,” Sans’s low voice pushed towards warning, “ya sure that’s a good idea?”

Any sort of tilt of the eye no matter how subtle might as well have been a giant neon sign to Sans.They did everything they could not to let their uncertainty write itself across their features but Sans saw. He always saw.

He let out a heavy sigh that weaved a scratchy blanket of fatigue between the group.

‘Come now brother! A friend of Frisk’s is a friend of monsters!’

“It’s pretty late kid you aren’t going to have enough time to take them back,” Sans urged directly ignoring his brother, “Tori’s already kinda upset.”

Frisk rubbed over their heart in a circular motion with their fist as they looked down the mountain, ‘actually, I was hoping maybe mom could help them.’

“Frisk, this sounds like a-”

‘Brother! Lets’ not make any decisions until we meet them.’ It was sort of funny how even when Papyrus was signing you could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. He placed a red gloved hand on his brother’s shoulder, “we are both excited to do so!” Papyrus declared proudly before quickly covering his mouth.

An amused smirk displayed in Frisk’s eyes before they nodded and bound back into the cavern, ‘they are excited to meet you Friend!’

Friend was crouched in on themselves, barely any taller than the pint sized ambassador, with the white dots of their eyes pinned to the floor, ‘maybe I… I don’t think I should meet them.’

At least they were up for talking again, ‘It’s okay if you’re nervous but sometimes the scariest things are the best!’ Their white dots pointed up to Frisk’s face before they dropped back to the floor. ‘Why don’t you want to meet them now?’

Their mouth quivered as they hesitated to form the words, ‘because I’m bad,’ they signed resolutely.

‘No you’re not,’ Frisk defended. How on earth could they think they were bad? They never mentioned having done anything before they met and the way they hid away from every new thing as if it was terrifying-- they just couldn’t be bad.

‘They said beware,’ they turned their head back along the way they came.

‘Who--?’ Oh, River Person, it was the ‘Beware the man who speaks in hands’ dialogue, ‘Don’t worry about that they just say that sometimes, it doesn’t mean anything.’

They didn’t seem satisfied with the answer as they shrunk further, ‘Friend?’ They didn’t respond, ‘you were in that room forever how could you have done anything bad?’

Their palms turned up to shrug.

‘I promise my friends will think you’re good!’ Suddenly they were very grateful Papyrus had climbed the mountain because no one had a more welcoming presence. They wrapped their hand around Friend’s, “I promise,” their tired under used voice cracked. Despite how their friends had tried to encourage the use of their voice they still just couldn’t bring themselves to do it.

They opened their mouth as if to speak before they nodded with the determined expression they’d worn for so much of the journey. With their best impression of a breath Friend stretched back to their usual height eyes focused on the silhouettes in the distance.

When they crossed the threshold hand in hand the brother’s turned to face them. Friend squeezed their hand tightly as Sans and Papyrus stared them down for a moment longer than what was in character for either of them. They exchanged one of their infamous silent conversations while Friend attempted to hide behind Frisk.

‘Friend this is Papyrus and Sans,’ the pair dropped their focused gaze as they slipped into their usual demeanors.

‘Hello Friend! Pleased to meet you! I am the Great Papyrus and this is my lazy brother Sans,’ he gestured dramatically.

‘S-U-P,’ Sans shoved his hands in his pockets the moment he was done.

‘Sans! That is not how you sign! I swear you can read it just fine but whenever it’s your turn to talk-’

“What can I say signing is a bit of a _handful_ ,” he winked. Papyrus looked like his nonexistent eyes were about to pop out of his skull as he resisted all urges to shout the monster’s name.

Frisk smiled, they should have known better than to expect the brothers to act any different than usual. They looked behind to Friend who had both hands cupped over their mouth a wide smile visible underneath the holes in their palms. Their form shook lightly before a strange almost mechanical noise slipped from them in a pattern that made little sense but the smile, the way the dark of their eyes crinkled, they were laughing! Frisk had never heard them laugh before!

The skeleton brothers paused in their routine to look over at the monster their eyes falling to the same spot above Friend’s head with a curious expression before they looked back at each other.

‘I don’t have a name,’ they signed shyly still not quite coming out from behind the pint sized ambassador, ‘but I am happy to see you again!’

Sans gave Frisk a cautious glance, ‘I showed them pictures of you guys earlier today.’ Frisk explained, ‘That is what you meant, right Friend?’

‘Yes,’ they signed with a simple drop of their fist.

Sans shrugged, “well it’s good to meet Frisk’s imaginary friend finally but it’s time for the kid to go home.”

‘I’m going to Frisk’s home too!’ They signed enthusiastically.

“Uh, I think we should ask Tori on that one first. Maybe tomorrow--”

‘If Lady Toriel says no they could stay with us!’ Papyrus interrupted.

That didn’t seem to settle well with the shorter skeleton, “Bro, I think they would be happier here where things are familiar.”

‘Nonsense! They came all this way to see everyone they should get to do so!’

His eyelights flicked out, “we don’t really have room.”

‘What about the basement?’

“Why don’t we just ask Tori?”

Frisk nodded as they pulled out their phone, ‘Good idea,’ they signed clumsily around the device. ‘Friend would you mind-- Friend?’

Friend had zoned out as the conversation fell between the three to stare up at the night sky his white eyes mere dots as the stared up into the unknown. Black tears fell freely from him before they disappeared across his darkened form. With a single finger extended they reached up as if they could touch one. Their  fingers crumpled like paper when they realized the attempt was fruitless. ‘What are they?’

There was a pleasant smile as Frisk signed: ‘Stars.’

‘I think I like stars,’ they wiped at their face when they finished signing. ‘Frisk, will you let me see the stars tomorrow?’

‘Of course you can,’ Frisk furrowed their brows uncertain as to why they felt asking was necessary.

‘Good,’ they signed to the sky, ‘I will see you again.’

Papyrus cleared his throat, ‘regardless of where Friend ends up staying I think we need to start back down before it gets much later.’

‘Right!’ Frisk signed taking Friend’s hand again as they followed behind Sans and Papyrus.

The jovial skeleton happily lead the way bending branches away from them or warning the others of a particularly steep incline while Sans held up his phone in flashlight mode. Friend seemed content in their company occasionally forcing a small smile in place of actual conversation. With how dark everything was nothing seemed to particularly frighten them aside from the beam from Sans’s phone that they actively avoided.

Leaves would fall against Friend only to disappear underneath their black cloak like body. The way they moved wasn’t akin to walking or even hovering they seemed to just get where they were going. Small roots, stones, or vegetation didn’t even seem to register to them but they did move around any particularly raised surface.

Frisk was still uncertain as to what the monster was now; it had a physical form so it couldn’t be a ghost. Something about it just seemed off as they just didn’t look like anything else. Then there was the door the monster was hiding behind: it would just appear and disappear. They called it their home but there was nothing in that cavern.

 _Beware the man who speaks in hands_. It had always just been nonsense. Every run they had performed and they’d never seen a man who spoke in hands. They were surprised that Toriel was rusty with sign but seemed to understand it, Papyrus was surprised to learn he knew Hands-- even if he tried to disguise it, even Sans seemed to recognize what the gestures meant, but none of them spoke in Hands. Friend was the first one.

Their phone buzzed in their pocket and Frisk eagerly pulled it out to see the reply from Goat Mom: _You should have told me you were visiting a friend in case something happened my child. I suppose such things cannot be helped. You’ve grown up so quickly, I need to learn to give you space._

She’d gotten a lot better at texting after the last several years of practice, it also helped Alphys made her a much larger phone better suited for her paws. The phone was nearly the size of Frisk’s head which of course meant they tried to use it as much as possible.

_As for your friend. We can take them in at least for the night but we will need a much more thorough conversation about you bringing strangers into the house tomorrow._

Frisk tilted their screen for Sans to read, “sounds good.” His eyelights darted over to his brother then over to Friend with a trained caution. They hadn’t expected Sans to trust Friend for a while but they seemed to put him on edge.

‘Are you okay?’

Sans blinked his eyelights over to Frisk, “Yeah kid, just tired. Not used to walking across Camp, climbing up a mountain, and then back down... and across town again,” his voice drew itself out longer and longer as he bemoaned the tale of his horrendous walking curse.

“Will you stop complaining? If you didn’t want to walk down the mountain you shouldn’t have walked up in the first place!” Papyrus bit harshly.

Frisk’s head snapped over to Friend expecting them to have shrunk away or startled at Papyrus’s loud, bombastic, voice but they smiled over to him a distant look in the dots of their eyes as they studied him. Apparently drips of water from the stalactites hanging over head were too much for the monster but Papyrus’s voice was welcomed. Well, they supposed they were just happy Friend seemed to be enjoying the company.

When they finally arrived in Camp the path was lit by the soft, pale, white glow of the solar lamps along the gravel. To either side were houses ready for the night. Yellow squares fell from the windows of tidy homes to the ground as fluorescent lighting assaulted the darkness of the night.

Friend’s disembodied hand wrapped itself firmly around Frisk’s wrist while the body crept towards one of the windows. Frisk opened their mouth to urge them back to their side but the words stuck in their throat.

“Hey uh… Friend?” Sans seemed particularly uncomfortable addressing them as such, “They aren’t going to take too kindly to you watchin’ ‘em eat dinner.”

They turned back with the black of their eyes half sealed in a pitiful wince. Their hand fluttered to them as if attached to a retractable cord to meet its’ mate. ‘Family?’

Frisk nodded a bit uncertain how else they were supposed to respond. ‘Miss them,’ they placed their other hand against the window with a soft tink as they turned away. Their form seemed to shift and grow runny as their face grimaced.

Frisk moved to comfort them but Papyrus beat them to it. With an extended hand Papyrus smiled at them, “Friend,” his voice was uncharacteristically soft, “do you have a family?”

Their form dripped in long sticky strands as Papyrus lead them away from the house lights, ‘I don’t think so.’ Their features scrunched as they thought, ‘just me.’ Their form seemed to regain its’ usual appearance despite their pained expression.

“Are you sure?” Papyrus focused on him with an intensity that looked foreign in his small sockets. It reminded Frisk of the Golden Hall or more so Sans’s expression as he judged their soul but softer… more, Papyrus.

Friend’s eyes bounced against every surface in avoidance of the skeleton’s stare, ‘at home it’s just me.’ Papyrus seemed to deflate in disappointment before he looked sheepishly away from Sans’s curious gaze.

They waited a few minutes for Friend to compose themselves before they started around the darker edge of Camp closer to the treeline.

Toriel’s house was one of the first houses to be built close to the perimeter of the city. From the outside no one would believe if you said it belonged to the former queen of monsters and their adopted ‘ambassador’. It was just a simple two story pale brown house with a redwood door. The only thing truly remarkable from the outside was the elaborate stained glass flowers above the door.

The bushes outside were doing their best to endure against approaching winter cold but even their hearty greens were victim to the brittle brown of the season. A desk lamp greeted them from the window which appeared to be the only bit of the lighting inside the house. Frisk had warned Toriel about as much as they could think of and of course she took the warnings seriously.

Frisk fished for their keys in their pockets while Friend looked cautiously over their shoulder. “It is okay Friend,” Papyrus beamed, “Lady Toriel will be just as happy to meet you as we were!” The way Friend flinched at the opening door indicated he was exactly reassured by the words.

“Mom?” Frisk called their soft voice barely carrying to the edge of the entryway.

There were a few sounds of stirring from inside the house as the Boss Monster made her way to the door. She was still wearing what she’d left in that morning: a plain lavender shrug with a straight cut navy dress that made her look like the teacher she was. “Good evening Sans, Papyrus, thank you for taking care of Frisk.”

“It was not a problem at all Lady Toriel!” Papyrus stood at attention like he used to when he was chasing after the Royal Guard.

Friend moved to hide behind the slightly shorter Papyrus but the black of their eyes peered curiously over his shoulder. “Oh, and you too,” they shook their head from their not too clever hiding spot, “thank you for watching Frisk as well.”

‘Frisk watched me,’ they signed shyly.

Toriel seemed to consider this as she looked over what she could of Friend, “well why don’t we all come in? I have a snail slime tart that should be at just the perfect temperature.”

“Eh, could you _snail_ it to me? I think I’m gonna take the _slow and steady_ way back home,” Sans gestured down the road as Toriel chuckled.

“I suppose we shall part ways un _shell_ we meet again,” her burgundy eyes sparkled as she bore her puns into the skeleton.

Sans let out a single puff of air that did its’ own impression of a laugh, “good one Tore.”

‘Sans?’ Frisk asked but Papyrus let out a heavy sigh as the smaller brother made their way down the steps.

“W-wait,” came a tall sounding voice with a strange lilt. Frisk peered up to Friend whose hands flew over their mouth as they stared into the middle distance. Sans and Papyrus seemed to share that spot of nonexistence for a moment until the voice came again: “it’s not a bad one! It’s not bad!”

“On second thought Tore,” Sans’s voice seemed to reach a conclusion the rest of him didn’t, “I think I’ll spend a bit more _slime_ here tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

A spiderweb of grayish green slime drained from Sans’s teeth as he bit into the tart. Frisk still wasn’t sure how he managed to eat without his mouth ever opening but ‘magic’ was the only explanation they’d ever received. They watched in complete disgust as the green trail was smeared against the slick surface of his coat. Toriel sighed and passed him a napkin just a bit too late to spare the poor outer garment.

Papyrus, usually the first to commentate on such disgusting behavior, had his nonexistent nose buried in his phone. Occasionally his jaw would twitch to the side subtly as he thought, then he’d give a quick glance to Friend, as if to start a conversation, before he went right back to his phone.

Despite insisting that Friend join Frisk and Toriel on the couch he sat on the floor his body bent as if they had knees to curl to their chest. Toriel had allowed them to explore the house, which they did with minimal interest and in complete silence. There wasn’t a lot to see when it was this dark but they barely turned their head into the rooms.

When finally they moved to sit around the desk lamp in the living room Friend claimed a corner of the rug and buried themself in thoughts. The small white dots in the center of their large black eyes were gone giving them the hauntingly familiar look of when Frisk first met them.

Everyone was trying to be respectful and quiet, aside from Sans’s coat which very rudely made a complaint everytime he moved, but everyone was waiting in anticipation for the okay to ask questions. Maybe it was too late? Friend had mentioned being tired earlier, what if they were all sitting around watching them sleep?

Gradually the white dots resurfaced, they looked around the room cautiously before they looked at their hands as if confirming where they were. Frisk smiled widely to them until they smiled shyly back. ‘Friend Frisk,’ they signed resolutely.

‘Yes!’ Frisk signed, ‘Are you feeling better? 

Friend tossed the phrase around for a moment before they nodded their head twice.

“That is good to hear dear,” Toriel’s tiny fangs were exposed as she stoked her magic into a warm calming presence. “Would you mind if we asked you some questions?”

‘I don’t know many answers,’ they watched their fingers as they signed.

“That’s okay,” Papyrus’s voice bounced, “just try your best!” 

‘And if you get overwhelmed we’ll stop,’ Frisk added. They watched as Friend seemed to cautiously avoid Frisk’s eye, ‘You’ll tell us if you get frustrated right?’ 

‘I will try my best Frisk,’ they focused on Toriel, ‘I will try my best!’ They repeated as if she wasn’t sitting in the same room as the others.

“That’s all we ask of you,” her eyes were were soft as candlelight but Friend bowed his head to avoid her gaze, “Frisk said you don’t have a name but is there anything you’ve ever been called before?”

‘Friend,’ their index finger folded over the top of the other then switched which was on top.

“That’s not actually a name,” she hummed, “is there anything you would _like_ to be called?”

Their black eyes laid half lidded as they stared at the pattern on the rug, ‘I thought… I thought I could be everyone’s friend.’ The white dot of their eye moved about the room, ‘Can’t I?’

“Of course dear, we’re more than happy to be your friends.”

“Nyeheheh!” Papyrus chuckled, “I will gladly count you as a friend!”

They smiled briefly before their eyes fell on Frisk then dropped back to the rug. Slowly they shifted to sit a bit more comfortably, though, they avoided making eye contact with anyone knowing full well the attention was on them alone.

“Frisk says you want to go back home, where is that?” 

‘I don’t know what it’s called.’

“Well what did it look like?” Toriel prompted. 

Friend had to think for a while, ‘Nothing.’ They signed the word a few times over as they thought, ‘It was dark but I could see, but there was nothing to see. I couldn’t sit,’ they tapped the floor they were sitting on, ‘but it wasn’t tiring to stand.’

It was written plainly on Toriel’s face that she had every intent of saying some warm condolence about home regardless of their answer but this seemed to cut her to the quick. “I suppose good friends can make any place a home.”

‘Oh no, it was just me,’ they shrugged, ‘sometimes I’d see another me but we aren’t really talkative.’

Sans coughed into his hand and a plethora of crust crumbs rained onto his coat. Papyrus tilted his head up in concern but Sans gestured that he was okay. “This, uh, this place,” Frisk could see in his eyes he was snapping puzzle pieces together but it seemed he didn’t have the words, “nevermind,” he muttered more to himself than anyone else. “Were you born there?”

They tapped the tips of their fingers together trying to find the sign, “b-born?”

“Ya know? Ever been somewhere else? Like on a vacation or something?”

Friend seemed almost appalled as they paid heed to their fingers again, “va-ca-tion?” They sounded the word out their white dots seemed to swim with thought, ‘No. I don’t do that.’

“Me too!” Papyrus gasped finally pulling his face from his phone, “I would never do anything as slothful as a vacation!”

He looked between the phone and a spot in the air above Friend, “I think I have deciphered your name!”

‘I don’t have anything someone calls me,’ they signed solemnly with a glance up to Toriel as if confirming that he had already been asked that.

“Your Font though,” he turned his phone to the others, “it’s Aster!” Papyrus laughed triumphantly. “And something soft and fuzzy behind it I can’t really see,” he threw to the side much quieter and in a mumble.

“Bro, that’s a skeleton thing,” he stared at the phone for a moment before he turned his attention to Friend, “no offense intended but I don’t think that they are a skeleton.”

“Well, no,” Papyrus admitted, “but,” he drew out sharply, “they do talk with a Font. And every monster I’ve ever met with one is named after it!”

“I’m the only other monster you’ve met with a Font,” Sans chuckled. 

“Exactly! It’s the rules!” He nodded in agreeance with himself.

“Friend,” Toriel offered, “would you like to be called Aster? At least until we find a more suitable name.”

They gave a borderline panicked look over to Frisk who didn’t understand the meaning behind expression before they pulled their hands up, “if that’s the rules.”

“Wonderful Aster it is!” Toriel clasped her hands together, “is there anything you would like to tell us about yourself?”

Friend- Aster tapped their fingers together excitedly as they thought, ‘I like things,’ they signed wordlessly for a little while as they tried to match what ran through their mind with the shapes they needed to make. Eventually they found their footing, ‘the little bunnies Frisk brought make me happy! And the stars are beautiful! Little sparkles,’ their face curled up suddenly in distaste, ‘not like the crystals or phone.’

‘Oh, and I like everyone inside the papers Frisk brought,’ they smiled with a tilt of their head, ‘yes. They all seem quite nice.’ The shadows around Aster seemed subtly deeper as they stilled their signing, ‘quite nice.’

“You are very nice too!” Papyrus encouraged to no avail.

There was a small whimper of noise that served as the only response.

“Do you have a favorite color?” Toriel asked seeing it best to change the subject. 

They shook their head.

“Now that you’re on the surface,” Papyrus started, “anything you want to do?”

“I don’t know many answers,” they rubbed at their eyes, “I think I did once but I don’t now.” Dark black tears sat at the base of their eyes, ‘I’m tired Frisk.’

‘Don’t cry,’ Frisk smiled, ‘we’ll stop okay?’

‘I’m tired,’ at that Frisk slumped off the couch and wrapped their hands around one of Aster’s. 

Toriel sighed, “the guest room is ready for them if you want to show it to them.”

Frisk nodded enthusiastically as they helped Friend off of the ground by holding their hands still. They took a few steps up the stairs before they recognized they weren’t being followed, when they turned around Aster had a death grip on the rail forcing themself up onto the first step. ‘Want me to hold your hands?’ 

After they nodded Frisk pulled their hands off of the banister and stepped cautiously backwards up the steps.

No matter how long Frisk spent with monsters some things were always going to be peculiar: the way a Moldbygg smelled, the complicated existence of a Tsunderplane, everything about a Temmie, and helping an armless monster up stairs by holding their hands. None of them were quite the same but they were all equally odd.

Every inch of muscle in Frisk’s legs twitched in aggravation from walking so carefully backwards up the stairs. Their legs strained to hold still as they waited for the black mass of their friend’s form to sort of pool over onto the step before they would rise up to their full height and start the process all over again. Occasionally Aster would bite out a sorry seemingly very aware of how long the process was taking but Frisk insisted it was no issue. Their gaze tended to fall over the railing to the dark ground below with a blank expression before turning their focus on the next step.

After the effort grew from tedious, to obnoxious, to push towards miserable they finally stood at the landing. ‘We did it!’ Frisk signed punching the air like Undyne did after kicking a tree over. Aster performed a much softer imitation.

The pair pushed open the door to the room to be welcomed by almost pitch darkness. A bit of the light from the city managed to leak through the black out curtains just barely enough to give the minimal furniture some outlines. ‘Well,’ Frisk paused not sure if they could even read their hands when it was this dark.

Friend sat against the edge of the bed, “They said they would ask easy questions.” Their voice was tall, proper even, which gave it an odd mismatch to the childish way they spoke. In the dark, like this, it was hard to recognize it as belonging to the ghost they’d met so long ago now. 

Frisk plopped onto the bed, “You...did a good job-” they pressed their lips together trying to still their stutter, “answering them.”

“Am I Aster now?”

 “Do you not like it?”

Their white hands shown in the subtle light as they turned their hands over, “I wanted to be a friend. Am I not?”

Frisk nudged them softly with their shoulder, “you’re my friend.”

“But I’m Aster now.”

“I’m your friend a-aren’t I?” Frisk looked up to where the dark of their eyes were.

“Yes.”

“But what’s my name?”

“Frisk.”

They smiled, “see? It’s just s-something else to call you,” their smile dropped as a scratching sensation prickled in their throat. No, this was good. They should try to talk more.

They nodded but it reminded Frisk of when Asgore would try not to nod off, “you said you were tired. You can sleep here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

They pulled the pastry they had meant to give them before they left out of their inventory, “welcome to the surface!” Aster happily took the cinnabunny with a tight smile as Frisk grabbed the door handle.

“Frisk?” Their tone had a panicked edge as they tried to stop them from leaving.

“Don’t worry, I’m g-going to be in the same place as you from now on.”

“No… I um. Thank you for taking me with you.”

Frisk smiled pleasantly but before they could tell them goodnight again Aster continued: “I don’t think I’m meant to be this. I might have been more once.” Their voice was strained as if every syllable wedged itself in their throat trying desperately not to escape, “on the surface. I want to be me.” A short moan escaped them as their hands pressed against their sockets, “Is that okay?”

“I’ll do everything I- I can to help!” That sensation, so familiar, was burning in them. Their friend needed their help and they were going to do whatever it took.

“Even if I’m bad?”

Frisk sighed: back to that? “You aren’t. I am certain of it!” Aster gasped as if the opinion of a teen were absolute law. “Good night friend.”

“Good night friend,” Aster mumbled as Frisk cracked the door for them.

Before they even made it halfway down the stairs they could feel the emotional magic coming from the living room. It made all of the hair on their arms stand on end but it dissipated the moment they entered the room, ‘what’s wrong?’

Toriel sighed still perched on her favorite corner of the couch, “we just aren’t sure about your new friend.”

“It doesn’t matter what we think, they obviously need help,” Papyrus’s brows were knit together in a cocktail of frustration and thought.

Frisk turned to see Sans’s opinion but the monster had fallen asleep in the chair blanketed by crumbs. Of course he was asleep. ‘What aren’t you sure about?’

“Frisk, my child, I have been around for a very long time. I have seen all sorts of monsters but I’ve never seen any quite like that.”

“Well they obviously aren’t a human!” Papyrus folded his arms, “I think they are just very very lost. We can help them find their way!” He tapped his fingertips to his chest and puffed it out, “in fact! It is our duty to help them!”

‘Mom, if you don’t want them here I can take them back to Waterfall tomorrow. I should have asked first, I’m sorry.’ Frisk didn’t like the idea of leaving them in that hallway again. Imagining them nudging their cinnabunnies into perfect formation then just waiting and waiting for when Frisk would show up again.

“You should have my child,” she spoke sternly, “but I can’t deny it seems they need our help,” she looked to the ceiling above as if she could see directly into the guest room. “We shall see what comes of this, until then, I suggest we all make our way to our respective beds. It is quite late.”

“Okay Lady Toriel,” Papyrus’s knees clicked as he stood. He gave a bit of a sway as the rest of him woke up before he pulled his brother out of the chair, “we will see you all soon!”

“Night,” Sans yawned over his brother’s shoulder.

Frisk watched them walk to the end of the path through one of the wide windows and then until they drove out of sight in Papyrus’s shiny car. Red leaves clattered around in the yard fleeing from a powerful gust. Things were going to be different. Change wasn’t always a good thing, Toriel nuzzled her nose against the side of their head then whispered a soft good night before heading up the stairs, but it wasn’t always a bad thing either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate writing ‘getting there’ chapters but we’re here! 
> 
> Thanks for the support! See ya I’m two weeks!


	3. Define: Morning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Aster’s first day on the surface! Frisk is excitedfor their friend to see it but they don’t really seem interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos last week! It really helps with motivation to know what it is people like especially when a chapter (like this one) tries to be difficult. Sometimes a comment can really help find what I need to focus on more! So thank you!

Time was much more difficult to decipher that Saturday with all of the curtains drawn tight to prevent light from filtering through the upstairs windows. No matter how many times they awoke that morning they just couldn’t convince themself it was time to get up. Which meant they weren’t surprised at all to wake up blurry eyed to the gentle touch of their mother. Still, they laid there content in the warmth of the blankets and the safety of the company as they teased their mind awake.

They pressed their knuckles gently to their narrow eyes to rub the last of the sleepiness away from them. “Did you sleep well?” Toriel’s hushed tones were like the last flames of a hearth still hoping to provide comfort. 

Frisk nodded then forced their back against the headboard still too lazy to sit on their own, ‘what time is it?’ They signed awkwardly as their fingers bumbled around numbly.

Toriel chuckled, “it’s nearly ten.” Her tone was light and cheery as she added on: “But I figured with the night you had you could use a little extra sleep.”

‘Thank you.’

Her brows were tense with thought as her burgundy eyes burned into some imaginary corner of the room. Something was bothering her but just as Frisk was about to ask she sighed, “I was fully prepared to have a discussion about keeping me informed of your adventures, going up the mountain at night, and bringing strangers home.” Her eyes tilted slightly towards the room next to Frisk’s before turning back to them, “Your compassion never ceases to amaze me my child.”

“I think Papyrus was right, they are in need of assistance,” her shoulders dropped, “the thought of Aster alone in the corridors of Waterfall just doesn’t settle well with me. I know he endured down there for so long but, well, I’m not sure what assistance we may provide to them, or what they need at all,” fire burned in her eyes as her resolve solidified, “but I want to help.”

Frisk wrapped their arms around her burying their face in the fur on her shoulder. Toriel chuckled as she pet the top of their head with her free paw, “I am going to make some pancakes, why don’t you see if Aster would join us?”

Did they need to eat? They hadn’t ever before but then again Frisk wasn’t sure how long they had been physical. 

Recognizing they hadn’t answered the question they nodded their head twice in a sharp motion. “I knew I could count on you,” after a firm hug Toriel headed downstairs to start on breakfast.

They stretched their arms high above them feeling the soft pull in their shoulders before they slipped into their ‘monster’ slippers. It was a pair of big white cat paw slippers that Sans had gotten for them on a whim. Originally they came with a set of squeakers that the skeleton had thought would be hilarious but they didn't last long with Toriel around. Still, they loved that they looked so similar to their mom’s paws. 

Gently they tapped on the door to the guest bedroom with a single finger unaware as to whether their friend was still asleep or not. When no response came they pushed the door open slowly enough it threatened to be ensnared by the carpet below. Frisk was not proud of the way they flinched at the sight of Aster facing the door, standing up, without the little white dots in their eyes. There was something otherworldly about the way their skin prickled in goosebumps with recognition that they weren’t being seen.

It was like when they first met.

Their throat tightened as they tried to push out a single syllable, some form of communication, but the more they strained the more raw it felt. A staring match it was then, even if Frisk found themself trying not to make direct eye contact. 

After what felt like an eternity tiny white dots formed in their pitch black chasms.They looked rather frantically about their bedroom, their stark white hands drew close to their chest as their form rippled, ‘Frisk?’ Frisk nodded. ‘Where. Where am I?’

Frisk hadn’t anticipated the scent of golden flowers and musty cave air that drifted against them. They’d worn that same panic before. Now they could only hope they were more hospitable than that golden flower had been. ‘We came to the surface. We’re at Toriel’s now.’

‘I’m… on the Surface. With Frisk and family,’ they recited back to themself.

‘Do you remember anything else?’ Frisk prodded carefully.

Aster seemed taken aback as their hands began to twitch out half finished signs, ‘I… We… Met Papyrus and Sans.’ They looked to Frisk for approval which they were happy to receive, ‘and…’ Their eyes pointed distinctly up to the ceiling as if the answer was written up there before a wide smile blossomed, ‘I like stars! Frisk can I see them?!’

Such a genuine smile was contagious, ‘they are asleep right now.’ That slipped out faster than they intended. It was hard to tell whether it was rude to talk to them as if they were a child or not but they didn’t seem offended at least. In fact they seemed to grow quite thoughtful as they drew their fingers up around their mouth.

‘Good morning by the way,’ Frisk grinned.

‘Morning?’ They signed awkwardly.

‘Mom’s making breakfast if you want something to eat.’ Their content expression twisted into a sharp frown as their fingers tried to form thoughts. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Breakfast. Eat.’

‘Yeah we just have to go downstairs,’ Frisk hitched their thumb behind them, ‘oh, and don’t worry we have it nice and dark for you!’

As if the doorway was suddenly hazardous the monster flew back further into the room shaking their head. ‘What’s wrong?’

Their hands cupped the side of their head as if they needed to interfere to still the shake. ‘I don’t--’ They started to sign but their hands flew back up to their head. 

‘Hey,’ Frisk stepped towards them carefully well aware of how easy it was for a distressed monster to start throwing bullets, ‘it’s okay. It’s okay.’ They reached out to gently wrap their fingers around one of the hands. Aster seemed to calm down at the contact but the white dots in their eyes grew from marbles to moons as their chest rose and fell. 

‘I’ve seen enough, can I go home?’ They signed desperately shaking off Frisk’s meager grip.

Frisk furrowed their brows, ‘the door is gone. Remember?’

‘Maybe. Maybe. Maybe it’s back? I should check,’ their eyes were spinning with thoughts Frisk couldn’t read.

‘Well, lets have breakfast first then we’ll see if mom wants to go with us,’ they tugged at the base of their sweater as their nerves got the better of them. The unease they felt was nothing compared to the fear entangling Aster. Their form was starting to gain a runny consistency before their white dots disappeared.

‘I’m going to go talk to mom.’ When it didn’t seem Aster cared one way or another about the statement they made their way out of the room then down the stairs.

Nothing about that made sense. They were freaking out at the same level they had when they were walking through Waterfall but they hadn’t seen anything new. Nothing had moved without permission so why were they that upset? Maybe this had been a mistake--

No. It most certainly was not. 

_ Like mom and Papyrus said they just need help! _ Frisk affirmed to themself. They really were grateful for their help. Originally they’d believed they were going to be solely responsible for their friend’s well being although that made them sound like a pet. 

The smell of hot maple syrup and buttery pancakes wafted lazily in the air erasing the unease from earlier with a grounded homey feel. They grabbed a few plates from the cabinets and filled two glasses with milk before setting them on the table. Just a little while later Toriel turned around with a heaping plate full of pancakes, “oh, will Aster not be joining us?”

Frisk shook their head as they took a pancake, ‘they aren’t doing too well.’

“Oh dear,” she sighed, “do you know what’s wrong?”

‘No,’ Frisk started with an unsatisfied twitch of their lips, ‘their acting all scared again and I don’t know why.’

Toriel hummed with thought before she picked up her plate and grabbed a cooking sheet to set it on and another empty plate, “why don’t we find out?”

‘They aren’t talking.’

She had that look in her eye, that motherly know how that coaxed Frisk through so many hard times. With a practiced ease she turned the cooking sheet into a serving tray and walked up to the top of the stairs where she sat. Frisk joined her a single step down, plate mounted firmly across their lap.

“With all of the excitement I didn’t get to ask you about school yesterday, how was it?” Toriel gently cut a piece of pancake careful to avoid the scraping of metal against ceramic.

‘It was fine…’ What was she up to? ‘Oh actually! We made Elephant Toothpaste!’

“Was that  _ tusk _ to make?” Toriel winked.

‘No,’ Frisk shoved her playfully, ‘but we got to go outside because it made a huge mess. You put some things in a little tube and then,’ they threw their arms into the air, ‘it erupts like a geyser!’

“Oh my, that sounds like fun!”

‘It was! Until one of the kids decided to knock it over with a bullet,’ they folded their arms, ‘then it went all over the teacher.’ Toriel sighed, obviously not surprised. ‘They were okay, in fact they laughed pretty hard about it but they had to go change afterwards.’

They’d completely forgotten about the experiment with everything that had happened, and they’d been so excited to tell their mom about it too. Funny how that sort of thing happened: things that were important or new suddenly disappeared from thought when something else appeared. 

After that they spoke casually amongst each other of mundane subjects. Toriel talked about her class and of the pranks they had attempted to pull on her over the years. It had to take a lot of guts to even think of pranking the burgundy eyed, horned, fire wielding, boss monster that was their mom.

Although… they hadn’t had any problem with it. 

After Flowey had turned on them so suddenly in the Underground Toriel felt like a trap. Their cinnamon scented home had just reminded them of the story of Hansel and Gretel. Every kind gesture. Every oath of protection had to be a lie. No one had ever spoken to them like that before. The first time they tasted dust they could honestly say they just didn’t know any better.

That excuse only worked once.

“Frisk darling?”

They nearly jumped out of their skin, the now empty plate tumbled to the step, ‘sorry I was spacing out.’

“That’s what happens when you over sleep my child,” she smiled fondly but the concern didn’t find its’ way out from her eyes. Ever so gently she tucked a lock of hair behind their ear, “any ideas for dinner?”

Frisk chuckled, ‘we just finished breakfast!’

Toriel laughed into her paw, “Well, I just would like you to start thinking about it is all.” 

A small creak sounded from behind them. The pair turned to see Aster wedged halfway against the door. “Would you like to join us?” Toriel asked raising the few remaining pancakes in a short gesture.

Aster seemed painfully uncertain before they disappeared back into their room. Frisk sighed in disappointment as they deflated against the railing, so much for that. 

“Would you like another pancake dear? I have two left,” Toriel smiled as if she hadn’t even noticed their retreat.

‘No thank you mom.’

“Alright, fair enough, but what will we do with them? I would hate to waste them,” she hummed thoughtfully. The door creaked again and this time Aster stepped just barely outside of the room clutching the cinnabunny from last night between their hands. “Good morning Aster!”

They looked around the hall in an attempt to decipher what was being referenced before they noticed Frisk pointing to them. “I--” Their voice cracked with uncertainty as to if it should make such a sound, “I am Aster.”

Toriel nodded in approval before she gestured to the plate, “would you like to have something to eat or were you going to have the cinnabunny?” 

Aster’s eyes slid over to Frisk asking for an answer. They scooped up an overly saturated piece of pancake with their fork then bit down on it. “Never!” Aster pulled the pastry protectively to their chest. “It’s important!”

The pair exchanged a curious glance to each other as Toriel’s ears perked up slightly, “no need to shout Aster,” she scolded softly for her. They dropped their head apologetically still not faltering in their grip, “why is it important dear?”

“It makes me… Smile. They’re safe and warm,” they looked back longingly to their room.

“Well holding onto it like that is going to make your hands all sticky,” she warned, “why don’t you come sit with us?” She scooted over to the rail and patted the stair beside her. Aster seemed to agree as he manipulated his form to sit on the steps. “Are you hungry? We have two very good light and fluffy pancakes left.”

“What is hungry? Frisk mentioned pancakes too I don’t--,” their eyes darted around as if chasing some fly patterned thought, “I don’t know… anything.” The black of their eyes scrunched up, “I did once but I don’t now.” They pressed the pastry against them, “I don’t now.”

“Dear,” Toriel reached out to touch them but they flinched away from her, “we’re here to help you. If you don’t know something ask, both of us want nothing more than to see you happy as a cinnabunny.”

They turned the bunny shaped bread to face them, “I don’t know if I can. I’m still missing a lot…” Their voice cut out from them in a mad dash their eyes seemed to follow in hot pursuit but the trail was lost.

‘We’ll find all sorts of things that you like and can make you happy!’ Frisk signed bouncily.

“For now though, you probably should eat something dear,” she tore off a piece of the pancake and held it in his reach.

It seemed to take an immense amount of mental fortitude to put the cinnabunny in one hand then to reach with the free one to pinch the pancake. After all the effort they sat there holding the already buttered piece in their grip. Frisk mimed eating a piece but they didn’t seem to understand the gesture.

“I can ask you anything?” Their fingers twitched in disapproval of the new texture.

‘You’ve always been able to,’ Frisk smiled encouragingly.

“Of course,” Toriel added.

Their eyes narrowed before they rose cautiously to their full height then disappeared into the guest bedroom. They returned promptly with a pillow between their, still full hands, “this?”

“It’s a pillow,” she signed the word as she spoke it.

“What is it for?”

‘Helping you sleep,’ Frisk supplied. When that seemed to simply inspire another question they tacked on: ‘it’s when you close your eyes and rest for a while.’

This seemed to satiate them as they turned to dash back into the bedroom before they reemerged a blanket, the pillow, and still the two foods, “what is this?”

Toriel sighed, “dear you are getting crumbs all over everything.” She grabbed a washcloth off of the tray then held her hand out, “can I see your hands?”

“They’re busy,” they replied quickly.

Frisk chuckled as they moved up to their level, ‘Can I see the pillow and the B-L-A-N-K-E-T?’

With a bit of resistance to the movement they passed the bedding to Frisk who folded them over their arm. Free of the material they still clung to the bread,s “Would you hand those to me?”

“It’s a pancake and a bun,” Aster informed her.

“Very good dear, might I see the pancake and the bun?” They didn’t even hesitate to return the pancake piece to her but held the cinnabunny close as they eyed her up and down. After a great deal of thought they passed it to Frisk.

“There we go,” Toriel smiled as she reached towards their outstretched hands. When the fabric pressed against their fingertips they jerked away eyes mere pinpoints as if they glared at the offending cloth. “Hold still dear or you’re going to make everything sticky.”

Something between a grunt and a whine escaped Asteras they reluctantly extended their hands out again. “Good,” Toriel sighed softly as she started at the hands once more. Despite a few utterances of complaints and their incessant squirming they allowed their hands to be cleaned. Toriel tilted her head to the side slightly, her fangs just barely exposed as she grinned, “Aster I think you are a very good monster.”

Immediately their eyes sparked wide in excitement, ‘I’m good?’

“I think all of our friends will agree…  _ hands  _ down,” she chuckled but the pun was lost on Aster. “Now what else were you wanting to ask about?”

They jerked up to their full height then gestured for them to follow to their room. Toriel put a paw on Frisk’s shoulder, “they’re a child.”

Frisk tried to respond around their mass of bedding but could do little more than shrug. “In a little while… would you mind asking if Alphys would come over tomorrow? I think we need to learn more about our new friend.”

Their soul beat happily as their mom went to join Aster, friend, they knew their family would accept them. Maybe, with their help, Aster could grow into a respectable monster with a wide smile surrounded by the love and affection they seemed so desperate for. How hard it must have been to be alone just waiting around for Frisk to meet them. They’d told them as much. That they just waited for them. Well, now, they were going to have more friends then they knew what to do with!

Toriel and Frisk started by explaining to Aster everything that was in their room and what it was used for. Aster seemed eager, almost ravenous, to define the world around them through words and signs. To Frisk’s surprise they ventured to the other rooms asking for everything and anything they could touch to be described to them. 

Once there was nothing new they back tracked to their room and started all over with Aster describing everything to them in a child’s attempt at a book report. Surprisingly, they didn’t need a lot of answers given to them stumbling only a few times over things like electric outlets and the wifi router.

It was nearly lunchtime by the time they finished with the upstairs. They put the session on hold while Toriel made some simple sandwiches for everyone, though, Aster watched in earnest. Once again they didn’t eat but the second they were given the okay they dissected their sandwich asking about all of its’ contents.

The day dragged on, it would have been obnoxious if they weren’t so enthusiastic about everything. This was much different than the day before where their curiosity left them quiet and focused. Perhaps that was because of their mom’s presence, she always had a way of encouraging people to learn. Maybe Aster noticed it too.

Just before dinner Aster finally crashed as he tripped over the word lamp and didn’t seem to recover from it. “I think that is plenty for the day,” Toriel’s voice was dry from overuse, “surely you must be tired.”

“I want to know everything!” Aster practically demanded.

“Dear, no one can know everything.”

“I can.” There was a foreign sounding confidence in their voice that seemed to resonate with their form. 

“I would encourage you to try,” Toriel laughed.

“I will,” they puffed up their chest.

‘Friend?’ Frisk signed pointing over to the window. They gazed with furrowed brows to the curtains that Frisk parted for them. Curiously they stepped over to the window gazing up into the night sky at all of the twinkling lights.

Aster gasped, “they’re awake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams at the chapter* YOU CAN’T HIRT ME ANYMORE!!! Goodness gracious this took the entire two weeks to write. Normally I get to start the following one at least a little bit but nope. Not this time. Still trying to sort of get a feel for writing Toriel since it is so easy to make her too soft.


	4. Math and Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel and Frisk invite Alphys over to see if they can gain any information on Aster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow everybody showed up really quickly last week ^^’ There are times I wish I’d update weekly but I just don’t have the time for that...
> 
> Thank you for your support I really appreciate it!

Frisk worked on their homework atop the coffee table as Toriel bounced back and forth between assisting them and Aster. She had procured all sorts of flash cards in her years as a teacher and they were all getting a working out today. They had started in the morning with picture cards containing things like apples or cars before moving on to colors.

Aster seemed to internalize words quickly, as if they were something just at the tip of his tongue but not quite capable of escape. Frisk tapped their pencil down to their english homework, they could relate. 

After a while they switched to math cards and Aster’s fumbling over words vanished. It wasn’t just easy equations either. As they stepped away from basic addition and subtraction into division and multiplication the rate of which they answered barely diminished. Within a moment of the card being visible Aster would eagerly sign the answer.

“I’m very impressed Aster,” Toriel flipped over the multiplication card so she could see it. “How do you know all of this?”

Aster shrugged, ‘that’s the shape that goes there.’

She furrowed her brows, “shape? I’m sorry… I don’t feel I,” she paused then flipped through the deck, “how about twelve times eighteen?” She showed them the card.

‘216,’ they signed promptly.

“Can you say the answer aloud?” 

They covered their mouth as their eyes peeled away with thought. Their hands flipped impatiently through the sign over and over to give them the correct answer but Aster seemed blind to it. With all of the confidence they could muster they stuck out their chest, “Wait, C, Right, Three.”

Toriel’s eyes fell to Frisk’s as she tried to piece together how they could sign the answers without even knowing them. Frisk shrugged up to her, “Well then,” Toriel hummed, “we’ll work on saying numbers after Alphys’s visit.”

“Sans and Papyrus are coming too,” Aster interjected.

Frisk chuckled, ‘Yes! You’ll have met all of the friends in no time!’

Aster’s face lit up like a sunrise as they imagined meeting everyone before it settled on a much more neutral expression while their thoughts pooled wordlessly. Already Toriel was very accustomed to watching their minimal features as she slid the cards back into their case knowing their session was finished. 

Frisk had been hoping to have this essay finished before everyone arrived but it was difficult to concentrate with so much going on. It would be a lie to say they weren’t rather nervous about Alphys coming over with a bunch of intimidating science-y equipment. Sure, there was absolutely nothing actually scary about the yellow lizard, but being poked and prodded at wasn’t a pleasant first experience for anyone. 

Frisk’s face scrunched up reflexively, they weren’t a fan of Doctor’s appointments much at all.

On the bright side Toriel had finally managed to convince the former Snowdin shopkeeper to give her the recipe for cinnabunnies. Once the appointment was over they were going to help their mom make some for a reward. Even if Aster didn’t eat them they would be appreciated!

A cheery melody played through the house as the doorbell rang. Frisk was all too eager to tear themselves away from the essay, leaving their pen atop it in hopes that it would write itself. Their mom beat them to the door as she assisted Alphys and Papyrus carry in all of the lab equipment. “Oh, I thought Sans was coming with you as well?” She pondered.

“He fell asleep in the car,” Papyrus tossed his nonexistent nose in the air as he set what he was carrying down. “How are you today Lady Toriel!?”

It had taken quite a while for Papyrus to stop referring to her as Lady Asgore and despite the insistence that he drop the title entirely it sort of just stuck.

Frisk dramatically pointed at the lanky skeleton in their entryway, “Is that a skeleton!?”

“It is indeed,” he placed his hands on his hips as he laughed before they quickly flew out to capture an arm full of human. Boney hugs were something that took time to get used to, they were entirely different from Toriel’s warm soft ones, or even Undyne’s suplex style but they had a comfort all their own.

“I am happy to see you too Human!” He pat the top of their head, “How is Aster doing?”

Frisk turned their head back to the living room, ‘he’s really excited to see you guys again, and meet Alphys.’

As if on cue Aster stuck their head out from the living room to take in the newcomers, “Oh hello--” Papyrus started but the monster moved straight past the monster he had been so excited to see to ogle at all of the shiny machines Alphys was busy setting up.

“O-oh my!” Alphys flinched as the monster was suddenly crouched right beside her observing the chords with their fingertips. “You uh, you might not want to touch that, I mean, I don’t think you’ll get hurt but um--” She paused abruptly as they turned their head up to face her.

‘You are Doctor Alphys,’ he signed quickly.

“Just um, just Alphys now,” she clutched the pink bow of her charcoal gray shrug, “but oh! Yes! Where are my manners?” The frills on the back of her head tilted up quickly before she rose to her meager height, “I am Alphys,” she extended her claws to them.

They seemed to consider the outstretched hand briefly before they went back to the machinery, “I like your toys Alphys.” They tapped a few buttons beside a computer screen and suddenly it flickered with light that made Aster wince. Frisk tilted their head, that seemed pretty lucky, they’d have never guessed that’s how you turned it on. 

Alphys withheld a panicked shriek before she realized it had been turned on properly, “whew, um, yeah, please, please don’t touch.”

“Oh,” Aster huddled away like a scolded child.

She pressed her glasses back up onto her nose, “You never told me your name.”

‘I don’t…’ He paused, “Aster! They call me Aster!”

“Well, Aster, I’m going to set some things up so we can run some… So we can get to know you better!”

‘I like tests,’ they signed simply.

“Yes, that is what they would be,” she laughed. With that she turned back to her work and Aster looked to Papyrus for the first time. 

They smiled broadly, excitement plainly written in the white of their eyes. Although, they said nothing as if whatever had them so elated would be ruined if they shared.

Papyrus in turn smiled at Aster some perplexing question written somewhere between his brows, but Papyrus could never tolerate silence, “I have a gift for you Aster!”

‘A gift?’

“Yes but it must wait until after Alphys is finished,” he folded his arms, “those are the rules.”

Aster studied him for a moment not really understanding but he nodded, “those are the rules.”

Frisk turned to the door as it clicked shut behind the shorter skeleton brother, “sorry I think I over _ booked _ myself today,” he groggily rubbed at his eyes as he gestured to the pink sack on his arm.

“Sans! Do not ruin the surprise with your terrible puns!” Papyrus scolded.

He just sort of half chuckled as he sat the sack on the ground. 

“It is morning Sans,” Aster greeted with a short wave.

“Good morning,” Toriel corrected.

“It is!” Aster replied.

“Heh,” Sans started, “how ya adapting up here?”

“Adapting…” Aster trailed off.

‘They are doing really well! Mom has been working on vocabulary and math with them,’ Frisk supplied as Aster continued to stumble over the word.

‘And they know what I am now!’ Aster smiled happily.

“We do?” Toriel was watching with a content smile as her house was filled with the warmth of company.

‘Yes,’ Aster seemed frustrated she’d forgotten, but Frisk had no idea what they were talking about, “I am a sponge!” They stated happily. “I am a sponge named Aster!”

“Dear,” Toriel chuckled, “I said you were  _ like _ a sponge.”

“But if I’m  _ like  _ a sponge and I’m not like anything else that means I’m a sponge!” He threw his fists down like a defiant child.

“It just means you learn very quickly,” she explained, “but that’s why Doctor Alphys is here, we’re going to find out what you are.” 

“If we can,” Sans shoved his hands in his pockets.

“R-ready when you guys are,” Alphys smiled with a thumbs up.

“Be good Aster,” Toriel smiled as she cupped his hands in her paws, “Papyrus, Frisk, and I are going to wait in the living room for you if you feel you need us, okay?”

‘Can I stay on the steps?’ Frisk asked, ‘I want to be here.’

Alphys tilted her head up, “you certainly do know them better than us. I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Very well,” Toriel nodded as her and Papyrus headed into the living room. Aster reached for her hands as she pulled away but let them slip from their grip.

“Good luck!” Papyrus cheered.

Aster made sure Frisk was staying within eyesight before they turned back to give their attention to Alphys and Sans.

“I’m going to ask some questions a-and I know you might not know the answers so just do what you can okay?” Alphys smiled pulling out her phone to take notes.

“For medical reasons I need to know if you are male, female--”

“Male,” they stated flatly.

Frisk’s eyebrows raised, oh, they hadn’t ever asked that… Granted it wasn’t a question they very much liked being asked themselves. Still, they ferreted away the information hoping to address Aster properly from now on. Especially, since they could say that so confidently when they struggled with so much.

“Okay, species?”

His gaze narrowed as he scrutinized the question, “you’re supposed to tell me.”

“I just needed to ask, just in case… um…”

And so it went for a while: Alphys asking basic medical questions and Aster doing his best to answer them. Frisk had feared he wouldn’t respond well to essentially being interrogated but just when it seemed Aster was getting annoyed Sans would slide in with an interesting factoid or a pun. This would give Aster just enough pause to step back from the growing tension before he would refocus on Alphys.

In fact, as the exam moved from questions to actual tests Aster seemed to focus increasingly on Sans. At first Frisk thought it was because he was more familiar with the skeleton but his expression read concerned more than anything. When Alphys pulled out a type of syringe for taking a sample of his magic Aster smiled warmly at Sans, “It’s okay, I’m the one with the appointment.”

Sans, for once, seemed a bit taken off guard, or maybe he was just trying to understand the comment, “only babybones are afraid of doctors,” he shoved his hands deep in his pockets while Alphys took the sample. Despite his words Sans turned away as the canister grew black with the presence of Aster’s magic.

From there Sans took the canister to the kitchen to run through a different machine while Alphys did some basic motor tests with Aster. He actually seemed to enjoy the challenge of them: laughing a bit when he couldn’t quite match the rate Alphys could tap each finger to her thumb.

Despite a very thorough explanation, a demonstration by both Toriel and Papyrus, and several minutes of trying, Aster failed to conjure a single bullet. Every monster knew how to summon a bullet. It was as much a part of themselves as their soul. They used bullets to express themselves and Aster acted as if he’d never heard the phrase before, he even applauded the demonstrations.

Alphys looked between Aster and her phone, a few beads of sweat gathered on her brow as she typed. Eventually Alphys had no choice but to give up on that section of the test, “A-alright now Aster,” she pulled up a screen, “I need you to materialize your soul for me.”

Aster furrowed his brows, “soul?”

“It’s the c-culmination of your being,” she stammered, “it’s everything you are.”

He seemed to think over this for a long with his hands pressed to his chest, “I’m all I am.”

Alphys gave a concerned look over to Frisk before she shook her head, “well,” she squeaked, “I’ll just use a better- better piece of machinery.” She opened up a different box than what her claws were initially around and pulled out a bulky tablet. “This is my version of a device called a chromagraph,” she chuckled, “I made it w-while caring for the-” She swallowed hard giving a cautious glance to the living room. “B-basically I don’t need to see your soul for it to work.”

She hooked up the nodes around where his soul would be before turning the machine on. It hummed vigorously for a moment before the screen began to flicker to life. 

A blue loading bar filled the screen before it was replaced with a red error message that made the screen flicker with black patches. Alphys pushed her glasses up on her nose as it wrinkled in confusion.

Quickly, she moved the nodes to a different location, then watched the screen, before she tried again, and again. “Al,” Sans called from the kitchen with a curious edge in his tone.

“Just a minute Sans,” Alphys huffed. 

After a few more attempts she retired the machine back to the case, a fearful look peered behind  her thick lenses and had Aster reaching for Frisk’s hand.

“Well, um, I- uh, you seem healthy!” Alphys laughed, her frills flaring then lowering as if breathing of their own accord. “I’m going to go over a few things with Sans then we’ll talk okay? Would hate to r-rush to any sort of…” She covered her teeth as she giggled out a word before muttering: “conclusion,” and joining Sans in the kitchen.

Aster plopped onto the bottom step with a deep frown, ‘So, am I something now?’

‘You’re always something!’ Frisk smiled, ‘You’re my friend!’ He smiled softly at that, his eyes darted over to Frisk shyly before they away. Frisk took their hands to help them up before leading them into the living room.

‘All done with the tests,’ Frisk smiled with Aster sulking behind them.

“Splendid!” Toriel grinned happily as she gently brushed the crumbs from the remainder of the snail slime tart from her dress into a napkin, “Did Alphys say anything yet?”

‘I’m healthy,’ Aster signed simply.

“That’s excellent news! A clean bill of health is a good sign indeed!” Papyrus beamed.

“Why do you seem so down dear?” Toriel sighed softly.

“Sorry,” Aster rose to his full height and Toriel had to quickly cover her mouth to prevent a laughing fit.

“Since you were so good Aster,” Papyrus pulled out the pink bag from beside the couch, “why don’t we open the gift now?”

Aster tilted his head, “Those weren’t the rules.”

Papyrus laughed, “Well, we can make what is known as: an exception!”

“Exception… Is a disregard for the rules,” Aster rehearsed, from where Frisk wasn’t sure.

“Yes, and this exception comes with a prize!” He shook the bag, whatever its’ contents were sank loud and heavy back into the bottom.

Aster peeked his head into the sack before gradually reaching in to retrieve the contents. His mouth puckered as the hands fumbled for their grip straining to pull whatever it was out. Papyrus cupped the bottom side of the gift to help him lift it. 

Frisk was surprised by the soft pink box with the painted looking meadow on the side. It wasn’t until Aster moved their hand that they could read ‘Fluffy Bunny’ printed in gold along the spine. “I ordered it from the local bookstore as soon as we left Friday!”

Aster turned the box over trying to get a better look at it when the books slid to the floor. He fled like a startled cat behind Frisk before cautiously peering over their shoulder at the books scattered on the ground. Suddenly his face nearly split as he saw the cover art, “Papyrus it’s your bunnies!”

Papyrus raised an eyebrow, “Why yes, I do happen to be an avid fan of the Fluffy Bunny series!” His tone dropped subtlety, “You seem to already know that though.” Aster was preoccupied with picking up the books, hardly paying Papyrus any mind. “I’m sure you will enjoy the series just as much as I do!”

“It’s from myself and Sans by the way, even if it was my idea, and I ordered them, and paid for them, and picked them up, and he exclusively stated they were from me. It is still from the both of us! Think of it as a ‘Welcome to the Surface’ gift!”

A small whimper escaped Aster as he dropped the books to wipe his eyes, ‘Sorry,’ he looked up to Papyrus, ‘I am so sorry.’

“What are you sorry for friend?” Papyrus tilted his head like a dog before his face lit up, “Oh! I know you didn’t mean to drop them! In fact let me help you.” He assisted Aster in picking up the books and showed him how to slide them back into the case, “There we are! No problem at all!” He wiped away the black tear at the base of Aster’s socket, “no need to cry!”

Aster swiped his face quickly, “No need to cry,” he repeated.

Toriel offered him a tissue from her inventory, “There you go, might be a bit more efficient than fingers.”

His fingers tapped from his chin out in a quick thank you before he took it to blot at his eyes.

“Heya, what’d I miss?” Sans stared at the group without any sort of an expression.

‘Books!’ Aster signed before displaying his new prize.

“Ah yeah, glad to see you like ‘em,” he stated indifferently. His eye lights pointed up to Toriel, “Mind if me and Al just talk to the two ‘uh you?”

“That’s not a problem at all,” Toriel smiled fondly, “Aster why don’t you try to read one of your new books?”

The little white dots of his eyes danced between Toriel and Sans before falling dejected atop the books in his clutch. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry I will help you read them,” Papyrus laughed, “provided Sans will fill me in later,” there was a huff in his voice as his sockets narrowed.

“Course Paps,” he shrugged without removing his hands from his pockets.

Frisk followed behind Sans and their mom as a sick feeling twisted like a pit of snakes in their stomach. Having watched the entire thing and seen Alphys’s expression they weren’t expecting very much in terms of good news. Still, if they could learn anything about their friend it would be beneficial to helping them adapt!

After a beat of silence Alphys laughed nervously, “Well your new housemate is healthy at least! All of its’ stats seem to be at peak condition!”

Toriel practically melted in her chair, “That is good to hear.” She’d been so stressed about trying to find something they would eat. Frisk would catch her using ‘Check’ regularly throughout the day in an attempt to make sure their health wasn’t faltering.

“That’s about where the normalcy ends though,” Sans chuckled passing over a stack of paper to Toriel. “Those are the aforementioned stats.” Frisk scanned the page their mom was holding: 66 HP, 6 ATK, 6 DEF. Definitely on the weak side of the spectrum but that hardly mattered as to who they were. 

“Now that’s all fine and dandy but after digging deeper,” he gestured for her to turn the page.

“Oh my.”

The page was black except for the numbers: 666 HP, 66 ATK, 66 DEF. Frisk couldn’t help but think that would have been quite the battle and was grateful the monster had been so shy when they first met.They looked over their mom’s hand to see one more number that hadn’t been on the original sheet: 6 LV.

LV was a Level of Violence. Something so terrible it leeches onto your soul and steals your empathy like a gluttonous tick. Their soul tightened in their chest remembering the feeling of being so painfully empty that not even their closest friends mattered. Nothing had mattered back then. It was just a means to a different end.

Monsters were made of kindness and happiness, the only ones that had LV were those that had participated in the war between humans and monsters. They looked up to their mom who seemed a bit strained to see such a thing attached to someone she’d believed to be a child. “They… they can’t even summon a bullet,” she shook her head.

“Either they got it while they were in this ‘other place’ they keep mentioning or they have some connection to the war,” Sans slid back into his seat.

“W-well o-or they, they could have gotten it when… when Frisk wasn’t around,” Alphys pursed her lips.

“No!” Frisk resolved defiantly, their voice almost cracking from the sudden use, ‘I know they aren’t bad.’

“And we trust you Frisk,” Alphys made eye contact for a change, “just… we don’t want to rule anything out.” Frisk folded their arms stubbornly.

“I believe Frisk on this matter,” Toriel placed her paw firmly on their shoulders, “I don’t think, as they are now, that they are capable of such a feat.” Alphys tucked her head and rummaged through papers.

“Their stats aren’t the only thing that we had to tweak the machine to get a reading on,” Sans supplied while she fussed.

“Th-they have an inventory, but it’s locked.”

“Is that possible?” Toriel asked.

Alphys shrugged her shoulders up towards her frills, “I certainly have never heard of such a thing b-but there’s a good chance if we can o-open it, or if h-he can, that we’ll be able to start figuring things out.”

Toriel sighed, “So all of this and we still know nothing.”

“You haven’t even told ‘em the freaky thing yet,” Sans smiled lazily choosing to sit with his arm against the back of a chair.

‘What’s weirder than hidden stats and locked inventories?’

“D-determination,” Alphys squeaked.

Immediately all sound was stolen from the room by a thief so nimble and skilled that no one even noticed it was missing.

Determination. 

Frisk looked at their hands, monsters couldn’t handle it the way humans could. As much of a burning beacon as it was for them it burned too brightly for their friends. They’d watched a powerful monster drip away in front of them when it boiled too strongly and they’d seen what it did to those not born with it.

Toriel’s voice stung the air like one of her flames, “So. Are you telling me they are one of your Amalgamates?”

Alphys immediately began to stammar without trace of a beginning or end. Words escaped her in a torrent akin to one of her episode recaps. Her claws flew about her like a complicated hand sign  like she was charging an attack similar to the anime she watched.

“No,” Sans interrupted firmly, “it ain’t like them at all. We couldn’t find  _ a  _ soul let alone remains of several.”

“So…” Toriel stared at some thought at the end of her muzzle trying desperately to make it out despite her farsightedness. 

“So, they aren’t a monster at all,” Sans supplied, oddly cold.

Frisk’s heart throbbed in their chest as they imagined Aster’s expression hearing such a thing. Watching their hopeful expression fall from them so quickly it shattered on the ground into little shards.

‘He is a monster to me,’ Frisk signed slowly.

“And you can tell him that,” Sans looked over to one of the machines with foggy eyes, “it’s just not technically true.”

After they spoke of everything and anything that they could even begin to question Toriel and Frisk sat in the kitchen to process their thoughts. It was a difficult decision but they came to terms with the new knowledge and decided it best to tell Aster that he was healthy and little more. Whether Aster was a child of this ‘other place’ or an ageless monster of the war he was uncertain of enough in this world.

This time Frisk was standing alongside Toriel as she threw her arms across the door to the outside hoping desperately to spare their friend from harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason for Aster stating they were male was purely selfish on my part. After writing a story with three male characters in one house I just wanted at many pronouns as I could get!
> 
> I hope this chapter was enjoyable even if it was a little exposition heavy.
> 
> Anybody like behind the scenes stuff? Whelp. Regardless: this is actually the third attempt at this story. The first followed more stly Aster but since he was so out of it the chapters were super short.
> 
> So I decided to try again with every chapter being from a different perspective but that got messy really quickly. In that draft though Aster was going to live with Alphys instead of Toriel. The pair had zero chemistry and I was set to scrap the idea. 
> 
> Then at the end of The Doctor’s Charges someone commented hoping Frisk would help Gaster at least get some final words out to his friends and that sort of thought is what lead to this story.


	5. Howdy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Toriel leave Aster home alone while they head to school leaving both of them more than a little nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people have shown up since the last update! Welcome! I thought I’d go ahead and restate: the update schedule for this is every other week. With the exception of next week where I will go ahead and post the next chapter early because it was supposed to be chapter three thus: it has been finished forever! Haha!

It took Frisk far too long to get ready that morning especially considering how early they’d woken up, but there was a fair amount of nervous energy buzzing about the air that Monday morning. They could still here Toriel quizzing Aster downstairs about various things he was and was not allowed to do while they were gone. It had taken most of the evening hours yesterday to convince their Mom that he would be okay on his own. 

Despite the fact they had been the one pushing the idea in the first place they were uncertain too, which is why they were pulling every curtain together as tight as they made their way through the house. They also laid out a memory game, a deck of cards, and the picture flashcards on top of the coffee table. Hopefully he would enjoy having something more to do than count cinnabunnies all day.

Toriel put her hand gently on Frisk’s shoulder, “And you are certain Aster will be alright on his own?” she crouched down to whisper in their ear. Her breath shifted some of their hair which tickled enough for them to rub at it.

‘This is safer than leaving him in the Underground,’ Frisk replied back calmly.

“If I’d have known the friend you went to visit was… well,” she glanced over to Aster who was standing by the door where she left him staring at it with little care for the conversation within earshot.

‘We’ll just lock the door and the worst trouble he can get into is inside the house,’ Frisk winced: it sounded like they were talking about a pet again. 

They resituated their backpack, as much as they were trying to comfort their mother that same sensation that had her in its clutches had them as well. No matter how many times they checked to make sure the curtains were clipped shut, no matter how securely the doors were locked, they still worried they’d come home to a goopy mess.

Toriel took a steadying breath as she turned back to Aster, “Well dear, we will see you soon. If I have time on my lunch break I’ll swing by to make sure you are okay.”

‘I am okay,’ he assured her with his hands, though it wasn’t very helpful because of how expressionless his face was.

“Okay dear,” she went to cup his face but he jerked away from the contact. Instead her paws fell into each other as she tried not to look insulted, “Be good.”

‘I will be good,’ he signed slowly as he attempted to decipher exactly what that consisted of.

“High five?” Frisk asked raising their hand as high in the air as they could.

Aster inspected it briefly before the dots connected. He weakley tapped the flat of his hand against Frisk’s. They both smiled widely: before Aster could even begin to sign Frisk had taught him to give a high five as just some sort of proof that they weren’t hallucinating the monster behind the gray door. Of course their hand had always phased through before but this was solid, this was real. They really had come a long way in a short time.

‘We’ll be back soon,’ Frisk waved as they finally let the door shut behind them.

* * *

 

As the shadows grew longer across the classroom’s desks they had difficulty remembering anything that had been discussed during the day. The more they thought about it the more they were certain they’d forgotten to turn in their homework. Maybe they could slip it on the teachers desk before they left? 

Wait, what subject were they even on right now?

Frisk looked up from the blank page of their notebook to see several dates written in tall white letters across the black board. History then. They looked at the math book in front of them and couldn’t help but chuckle as they wondered how astray Toriel’s day had ran. Their toes pressed hard against the legs of their desk to rock the chair back. 

Finally, after an eternity of holding their breath the school bell rang and they were free! Well, not quite yet, they swung by Toriel’s room to help her pick up for the day. They exchanged some small talk but both of them seemed incapable of focusing on the others words. When the last chair was pressed in they were quick in their steps out the door for the day. It had been a while since Frisk had walked home with their mom, they wished they could enjoy it a bit more, but they were both eager to be home.

When the front door to their house opened they met a set of black chasm like eyes staring absently at them. Frisk was disappointed that they flinched at the sight of their friend but was comforted when they noticed Toriel’s fur on her arm fluff up. “Aster,” she smoothed out her fur, “you gave me a fright!”

It seemed to fall on deaf ears until the whites came back to his eyes, ‘I didn’t give you anything?’ He tilted his head slightly giving a curious gaze to Toriel that bounced between her hands trying to find the fright.

Toriel had to try not to laugh as she asked the question both of them wanted to know: “Dear, what did you do today?”

‘I waited for you,’ when Frisk and Toriel’s gaze failed to changed he added: ‘Was I not supposed to?’

“Aster, you may roam around the house as you desire while we are away.”

‘No thanks,’ he signed simply, ‘there’s a lot of rules for the rest of the house. If I just stay here I can’t break them!’ He seemed quite proud of himself for his clever solution to Toriel’s rules. 

Everything had just been standard safety rules: don’t open the door, emergency contacts, where the speed dial button was for the emergency contacts, and where they kept the fire extinguisher. It was the typical rundown most kids got when they stayed home for the first time but it was apparently a bit much for Aster. 

_ At least he didn’t get into any trouble, _ Frisk supposed.

‘If you’re going to wait by the door you should say: Welcome Back!’ They informed him.

“Oh,” Aster fumbled his way through the sign: ‘Welcome back.’

‘Thanks!’

“Glad to be back,” Toriel smiled. “Now, I think it is just about time I start on dinner.” She hung her purse on the rack then started to roll up her sleeves.

‘Can I help?’

She hummed with thought, “Well, if you would like to watch I have no problems with that.”

‘Yes, I would like to do that,’ Aster smiled.

Frisk couldn’t help but catch the expression too, ‘What’s for dinner?’

“Beef stew,” she replied as she made her way to the kitchen with Aster shadowing her.

That left Frisk to work on their homework in the living room, which was probably for the best as they were terrible at math but Toriel was always too quick to help. This time they were going to do it on their own! They punched the air in solidarity before they dropped their pencil to the page eager and ready to work.

They were uncertain how much time had passed but they were aware the only thing they had accomplished was making themselves blind to numbers. All of them were running together at this point, all squiggly and messy, it looked like the innards of an angry dummy. A tight grin pulled across their features as they started to doodle in the margins.

Maybe they weren’t an artist like Papyrus but they liked to think they had a pretty accurate drawing in front of them. A bunch of numbers were layered on top of each other to make the puffs of cotton left behind by some angry tirade or another. Frisk tapped their pencil to their lips, they hadn’t heard much from them since they came up here.  _ How are they doing in the action figure body? _

The clock on the fireplace mocked them with their wasted time. How had they grown so off subject? They laid against the floor accepting their defeat until dinner, then they would ask for Toriel’s help. Miserable defeat, they flopped their arm across their forehead in a dramatic display.

A small ting clicked against the window. The curtains were still drawn tight but it didn’t seem like anything was out there. As they sat up the sound came again, and again, oh. They knew what this was. 

They tiptoed into the kitchen to watch Toriel bat Aster’s hand gently away from a kitchen knife. It seemed there was still some time left.

With a nervous breath they disapproved of possessing they opened the sun room door to then step out through the side door. The chill of the ground climbed up their pant leg as the, ready for a cutting, grass tickled their leg. There wasn’t anything in sight, nothing worth noting, but Frisk could tell they were being watched. 

The ground ruptured in front of them and in a mere moment they were hanging upside down in the air, “Howdy,” came a warped voice distorted voice they knew all too well. They bit their lips as they curled in a forced neutrality, but they couldn’t help it, slowly their lips parted in laughter.

Frisk pushed their sweater to sit properly against them in their new perspective as they laughed from their stomach, “Howdy Flowey!”

“You could at least pretend to be scared,” they lowered Frisk gently to the ground where they came face to face with the yellow flower, “ya know, for old time’s sake.”

‘Sorry,’ they apologized as they sat against the hard ground, ‘I couldn’t help myself! You were trying so hard!’

“Yeah, yeah,” his head bobbed from side to side on their stem his golden petals caught the light from the house.

‘What brings you here?’

“Does there have to be a reason?” He seemingly wilted as his voice grew pathetic, “I thought we were friends.”

‘We are,’ Frisk signed eagerly. It was the truth. As much as had happened between the pair, as many resets, and fights, and loads, and battles that were waged over and over again, they were friends. Although, there was some guilt on Frisk’s behalf: they’d given up on trying to bring Asriel back. They hated it. Flowey had every right to a happy ending, to finally be whole, and to feel again, but it just wasn’t possible.

They had been so cruel, so selfish, those resets where they searched desperately for an answer to save him. Frisk had thought they could get a different, better, ending where  _ everyone  _ was happy: even Flowey! Well, they reached out and gently pet one of his petals, at least they were together.

Flowey coughed needless into a vine, “Although.” Frisk smirked knowing there had to be a reason he was this close to Toriel’s house, “I was curious why I hadn’t seen you in so very long.”

‘You saw me Friday morning,’ Frisk corrected.

Flowey smacked their head against the grass to mope, “Are you guys so busy you can’t even open the curtains?”

Oh. For a moment they felt the need to hide Aster, not tell Flowey what was going on, but they knew curiosity made a demon out of their little buddy. ‘We have company over, and they don’t respond very well to the light.’

“Hmmm,” that playful edge was back in their voice as they turned back up to face Frisk, “who are they?”

‘Their name is Aster they’re a monster from Waterfall,’ actually, maybe talking to Flowey about Aster was a good idea, they knew everything about the Underground, every last dirty little secret. ‘They lived behind this weird door in a hallway that appeared and disappeared.’

Flowey’s beady black eyes narrowed, “Was it gray?”

Frisk’s heart skipped a beat, ‘Yes!’

“Huh,” Flowey tilted his head to the side, “I tried to burrow under the door but there was nothing but wall on the other side. When I tried to return to where I was I found myself at the entrance to Waterfall.”

“You mean to tell me there was a monster behind it?”

A tuft of disappointed air escaped them, so much for that. They did their best to describe Aster to Flowey.

“With holes in their hands?”

‘Yes?’ Maybe Flowey really did know something.

“Wow,” he whistled, “you left them alone down there for a long time didn’t you?”

‘Did you meet him?’

“Of course I’m going to talk to the monster in a hallway that shouldn’t exist!” Flowey chuckled, “But they didnt say anything, didn’t even respond to seeing a talking flower. Honestly, I might as well have tried talking to a mushroom.”

‘He’s doing a lot better now though!’ Frisk explained how smart Aster was at math and how quickly he learned hand signs.

“Sounds like quite the mystery you have there Frisk,” a dangerous smile split across his face, “seems very very interesting!” He winked and his magic made tiny little sparks flutter from his eye. “If he’s doing so good though why was the Doctor over yesterday?”

‘Are you spying on us?’

“No,” Flowey scoffed, “but I am going to notice if weird things start happening.”

Frisk sighed, they really didn’t like thinking about yesterday. They folded their arms across their knees to rest their head. A monster without a soul isn’t a monster at all… It’s something else. There was one monster that might understand that better than anyone, “When, when y-you woke up the first time,” their eyes pointed to the grass poking up around Flowey’s stem, “like you are. Did you remember… Asriel?”

The flower turned their head away from them and Frisk thought for sure he wasn’t going to answer before a sad little laugh came from him. “It took some time. Had to meet some monsters, think about things, I was so…” His voice pinched in a manner that seemed uncomfortable, “numb at first… didn’t quite understand anything but I had this vague impression that,” he trailed off with a wistful sigh, “I might have been more once.”

When Flowey turned his head back to face them Frisk was surprised to see him feigning tears, “How is Mom doing?”

Frisk smiled softly, ‘Good.’

“Good.”

‘You know I’m sure--”

“Frisk?” Toriel called out the sunroom door, “It’s time for dinner!”

They weren’t surprised at all to see Flowey had disappeared, “Coming,” their voice strained to cross the distance.

“What on Earth are you doing out here? You’re going to catch a cold,” Toriel mothered.

She seemed startled by how quickly they hugged her, “I just… needed to clear my, my head.”

She rubbed the top of their head, “Math?” They nodded into her side, “No worries! I shall help you right after we eat.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too my child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update was a little short I just needed to clarify that this was sort of the daily routine before the next chapter. Penciling in Flowey also fixes something down the road. 
> 
> Next weeks chapter I really enjoy so I hope you will too!


	6. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Frisk and Toriel head to school Aster is left to his own devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so excited to FINALLY get to post this chapter! Thanks for the Kudos last week and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Back to the every other week schedule after this one.

The world around him was dark, comforting, pleasantly familiar and desperately nostalgic. If it wasn’t for the thoughts permeating his mind he could almost believe he was back home. His detached hand fluttered away from him to grab the black out curtain that hung over the window. 

He wasn’t home. He hadn’t been home for a very long time, but he was with Frisk and friends now, and he couldn’t help but feel that was just as good as being home… right? 

His fingers secured their grip as he gently peeled the curtain back, steeling himself for the overwhelming brightness that followed. It was his morning routine. When he came to the surface the sights, the sounds, the lights, all vibrated inside of his head until he couldn’t see or hear anything else. Now though- well, now they still did that but, he was challenging himself to embrace them instead of hiding away! 

Conflicting rays of silver and white blurred his vision and blotted the world around him like a sponge painting. He forced his eyes shut in order to allow them a moment to adjust before he squinted them back open. 

The world outside was so bright! He loved all of the colors! The bright green of the- what was it called? Grass! Grass. The bright green grass, the warm blue sky, puffy white clouds that blotted out the yellow circle that made his head hurt. 

He wiped a black tear from his eye like he had to do every time he stared up at the sky. He didn’t know why it made him cry though, because he liked it alot! So much so that his chest ached when he stared at it, not in pain, but in... what was more than like? 

A lot of like…? 

Yes. Lots and lots of like.

As he stared at the puffy clouds that blocked out so much of the blue he thought they looked an awful lot like the insides of his pillow. With a nonchalant gaze he peered over to the mess of pillow innards on his bed; it was for a good reason. His hands grabbed a wad, a bit disapproving of the subtle scratch against them but not enough to drop it. 

The fluff was held up to the window to compare to the similar shapes in the sky. After careful deliberation he deciphered that clouds must be made out of pillow insides. He tossed it towards his ceiling a bit disappointed it didn’t linger like its brethren outside. A mild gasp escaped him as he imagined the dark room filled with clouds and leaves. Then he wouldn’t even need to open the curtain that hurt! He’d always be able to see it!

“Frisk?” Came a warm cheery voice that filled the air like a warm blanket, “It’s time to go!”

Go? Oh no.

His chest compressed as he forced himself to move faster than he was accustomed. Quickly he grabbed the Fluffy Bunny books to hastily shove them into the empty pillow. All of the books went inside the makeshift backpack that he then bound with a stretchy band. He had cut four parallel slits in the case to use as straps so it could sit against his back just like Frisk’s did.

He heard Frisk’s feet thumping in a rush against the stairway and flinched at the sound, nearly shrinking back into the depths of his room- but no, he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity! The bag attempted to fall off his shoulders, or lack thereof, as he reached for the doorknob but he quickly returned his hands to the straps as he slunk down the stairs. 

They were always so irksome. He didn’t have feet like Frisk, or Toriel, or anyone else, so he had to take each and every step one at a time, a task that took far too long normally let alone when he was trying to rush. 

The front door creaked open as the pair prepared to leave, “W-wait,” the words hiccuped from him quietly, curly white letters filled a black box in front of him. His head jerked back as he met the words but they passed right by him. He always felt so strange hearing his voice: it didn’t sound-- it didn’t  _ feel  _ right. 

“Oh, good morning Aster,” Toriel smiled patiently at the door, “you certainly didn’t have to meet us down here.”

That name still caught him off guard sometimes. It was always said with such big smiles and happy eyes but it didn’t sound like his name. Occasionally he would check to make sure they were, in fact, talking to him but they always were.

‘I can go too?’ His bag slipped lower on his back as he signed. Quickly, his hands flew back up to rest against the straps. Frisk and Toriel had been really nervous to leave him by himself so he made sure to prove exactly how good he was by waiting for their return. Just like he had in the Underground.

No matter how good he was though they never wanted to take him with them. So he kept trying to do better! Sometimes he wouldn’t even move the entire time they were gone...but they’d leave the next morning just the same. Until he noticed something: whenever they left they had bags! They never had them any other time so it must be important. The door wouldn’t let them out without bags. But he had one now too! So he was going to get so see the outside too!

“I’m sorry Aster you need to wait here like always, we’ll be back,” her burgundy eyes shown sympathy his way but they didn’t make him feel better.

‘I have a bag too though!’ It looked just like the one Frisk was wearing. He liked to think he did a good job making it.

Toriel blinked noticing the thin white straps for the first time, “where did you get that?”

‘I made it,’ he looked to the ground, the look she was giving him wasn’t one of the good ones.

She took a single step towards him to eye the bag a bit closer, “Oh my,” she sounded tired, “is that your pillow?”

“It’s my bag,” he muttered daring a glance up at her. She sighed and held out her paw meaning he was meant to give it to her, ‘I want to go too!’ He signed crisply.

Frisk tugged at Toriel’s sleeve to get her attention, ‘It’s okay mom, maybe he could just stay at the back of your class today?’

“Frisk my child,” she brushed the messy dark brown hair on the top of their head, “I fear he would be a bit of a distraction.”

‘I can be good! I can stand still for a long time!’ He could! Everytime they left and everytime they slept he stayed perfectly still. Doing absolutely nothing was his one and only talent.

“Aster dear, I think you would be happier at home than in an environment surrounded by curious children with too many questions.”

“I can’t go home,” he whimpered.

Toriel pursed her lips as her eyes tilted down to Frisk, “Until we can find your door again this is your home.” She said that a lot. His chest heaved as he tried to stop the black drops from aligning at the base of his eyes. Toriel’s eyes melted as she reached out gently to grasp his hands, “Be good today and I will bring you a surprise when I get home okay?”

He perked up, “Surprise?” That was different, he didn’t normally get surprises!

She laughed, he liked her laugh a lot, “But you have to be good.”

‘I will be the best,’ Aster smiled.

Frisk put their hand in the air and Aster tapped his to it to complete the morning high five. They left, like they did most days. Leaving him alone, like always. 

For a long time he stared at the warm red-brown door with the intricate floral patterned stained glass at the top. Each flower was pink on a lime green stem looped about each other over and over. 

He hadn’t seen the other side of the door since the day Frisk, Papyrus, and Sans lead him here from the mountain. As he scratched his memory he couldn’t think of what it had looked like, had he even paid attention? Maybe both sides matched? That’s how the door to his house was then when you opened it there was this ugly, tacky green, --

His brows furrowed as he chased the snail paced thought but he couldn’t wrap his fingers around the slimy thing before it left him behind. 

There wasn’t anything in his home. Home was nothing but him. His eyes traced the edges of the railing, the walls, the frames, this was similar but different. It was still just him but now there were things to look at.

Light sparkled through the stained glass and painted the wooden floor in shining pinks. Everything had gotten brighter while he was watching the door which meant he’d been there for a long time. Whenever he stayed be the door Toriel always seemed concerned asking what he had done all day. She didn’t ask that if he stayed in his room so that had to be the correct answer. 

Frisk said he was getting better at talking, he knew he was getting better at not being afraid, and- nope, that was about it. He did his best impression of a sit against the steps, why was he here? He looked at his detached hands as he recognized he wasn’t helpful to anyone. In fact he was specifically asked not to help carry in groceries, or sort laundry, or cook because he couldn’t do things.

He wanted to do things, he was just no good at them. Maybe he could work on the flashcards! Flashcards were something he was good at! Like a sponge! How happy would Toriel be when he already knew the answers? The idea held promise but they were on some hard words now and, without Toriel there to give him the answers, he wouldn’t know if he got them right or not.

The strap of his bag gave up supporting the weight of his books and, with a soft rip, it fell to the step behind him. His hand moved behind him to bring the bag in front of him to mindlessly fidget with the broken strap. Toriel didn’t like his bag. It didn’t let him go with them. Maybe if he fixed it she would think he was good enough for a surprise! If nothing else she wouldn’t be mad at him when she got back. 

With a tremendous effort his hands gripped the banister and pulled the rest of him up before he turned back to grab the bag. The living room was, he searched for a word, clean. The glossy floors sparkled even in the dim lighting. A small rug was sat on by a coffee table that sat in the center of a well loved chair and a couch. 

Aster grabbed the simple sewing kit Toriel kept beside her chair to work on things after work or in case a button fell off on the way out the door.  _ White thread. Silver needle _ . He pulled the instruments out of the case as carefully as he could muster. Toriel didn’t like it when he touched the stuff in the box because she said they were dangerous. She had a point,the last time he’d been in her box the silver needles had stuck into his hands and he’d spilt the whole box. So he had to make extra most sure he didn’t do that this time.

He pressed the thread through the eye of the needle before he looped the strands up to tie a knot. A small smile pressed across his face as he observed the needle hanging like a crystal on a necklace. It was as if he’d done this before! The pillow case was turned inside out, he placed the books carefully beside him, before he pressed the tip of the needle to the end of the case. 

It was a straight line making it the easiest to start with and he found it surprisingly enjoyable to press the needle in then out of the fabric. The needle left a dotted trail behind it until he was about an inch away from the end. Tiny scissors then snipped across the string before he tied it off.

Once finished reconnecting all of the cuts he held the case up to the light then tilted his head, how was he supposed to get the insides back in? He tapped his teeth together as a somber defeat fell over him.

He set the empty pillow across the arm of the chair sadly. Even if it was fun it turned out he was no good at sewing. Was there anything he was good at? He knew this one: he was good at doing absolutely nothing. Since that was his talent, he pressed his fist to his eyes, he should just wait in his room for them to come home. With a hefty sigh he allowed his hands to venture away from him and sort the books before he shakily lifted them into the air. 

His eyes burned into the books as he made his way up the stairs a single step at a time. 

There was a crack in his door just barely wide enough for him to press the books gently against in order to wedge it open. His hands threatened to drop their cargo when they met the door but he forced their grip to hold, as steady as he could muster, before he maneuvered his black mass of a form against the door to finally enter the room. It took a moment to regain his composure as his chest heaved with breath. 

His insides quaked from the effort uncertain as to what they wanted to look like. Cautiously he tapped the end of his hand to his form to make sure none of the sticky, messy, black threads came off. Luckily he was doing good: still solid at least!

The books clattered to the top of the dresser before he pulled out the empty second drawer. Each book was nestled inside in perfect lines facing up so the titles could be seen easily and all of the colorful covers could smile up at him. He took the sleeve off of the top of the dresser to return it to the drawer as well. The books were supposed to live in the case but it was incredibly difficult for him to return them without someone holding the case still. 

He gently shut the drawer then pulled out the one above it with a gleeful giggle as he was greeted by the cinnabunnies nestled inside. More than once he’d been informed he was supposed to eat them but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. They were important! 

Just looking at them made him smile wide with happiness so they had to be something magical. With his first finger he nudged them back into proper formation. Each pastry faced the same direction and was sorted by size: this time small to large. Maybe next time he’d sort them by the amount of cinnamon on top of them, though, that might not be fair. Some of the older ones had lost their spices.

His smile gradually faltered as he peered down at his colony of rabbits. How long had he been here? He really had no sense of days or weeks, even hours he tended to struggle with despite the clock telling him, he just knew Frisk and Toriel came back once the house started to get dark again. He considered counting them, then he’d know how long it had been, but instead his hands pressed firmly on the drawer. “Bye bye bunnies,” he muttered.

The curtain had fallen back shut inspiring everything in the room to lay as still as the shadows around them until Aster distrurbed them by laying across the bed. He shut his eyes and imagined the sound the branches made when they scratched against the house, how the leaves sounded as they walked down the mountain or when Frisk crunched them on their way in the door from school.

What would happen if he just opened the door and poked his head out? No one would see him do it. One of his hands flew lazily over to the window to see if it was possible to open but he didn’t feel anything useful. 

The hand closest to him covered his teeth, nothing useful.

That was it! He’d prove to Toriel and Frisk that he was useful! Then he could go with them to school and the grocery store and to the other friends’ houses. Yes! He liked this idea, he curled up to sit properly, now what could he do? 

Regardless he would have to go back downstairs, he glared at his door with distaste. Such an effort.  _ But it will be worth it! _ He promised himself as his form shifted to stand against the ground.

After a cautious descent down the stairs he poked his head around to the living room, Toriel always kept it spotless. The light from the sunroom just a little bit further down shown with Toriel’s hard work and floor polish. He would have checked the study but he had the distinct impression whatever help he could think of wouldn’t exactly be welcomed there.

Back along the stairs was the bathroom, a room he wasn’t exactly fond of. Lots of things made clattering, tinkering,or watery noises and the white chair didn’t make any sense to him. 

Oh, he should check if anything was in the washroom! He hadn’t ever done it before but he really thought he could manage to fold laundry. But as he walked along the stairway to check his eyes caught the kitchen.

How happy would Toriel be if she didn’t have to cook when she got home? He could make something special for them that made them smile!

The kitchen was the fanciest room in the house. Hardwood floors reflected his image up to him, as did the shiny electronics in the walls. There was hardly a need for mirrors in this house when everything was so- he searched for a word but nothing came to mind aside from shiny. The table was white decorated with a seasonal floral arrangement from ‘goat dad’ who he had yet to meet. 

His fingers brushed softly against the yellow and orange petals of a fiery looking flower. They were soft  between his fingers but he knew not to touch them too much or they would break. Try as he might he couldn’t remember what they were called just that it ended in ‘um’. He sighed, content to gently pet the flame like flower always confused that it wasn’t as warm as it looked.

As the lights shifted around him he realized he needed to get to work! He looked to the clock but it failed to give him any useful information. A mental note to remember the shape of the lines on the clock for when they came home was taken as he made his way to the silver fridge.

The light inside the fridge startled him: he didn’t remember it doing that. He had to squint his eyes tight with a complimenting frown as he poked his head inside the colder air of the fridge.There wasn’t much in the form of easy to make food but it was full to the brim with ingredients to recipes he didn’t know. 

Without any thought from him one of his hands began to open an egg carton but the other patted it away. That involved those hissing pieces of hostile metal and he did not care for them. Finally, in the back he found a blue tube of instant cinnamon rolls.

Perfect, he’d watched Toriel make them for breakfast before plus there were even instructions! He giggled as he read them, or more so glanced at the pictures. Toriel was going to be so happy she didn’t have to make dinner! 

He tilted his head to read the buttons on the top of the oven before he carefully pressed the one labeled ‘on’.  _ Click _ . So far so good, he tapped the up button until the symbols on the display matched what was on the tube. Cooking seemed so easy when Toriel did it, granted Frisk did help, but no matter how much Aster watched it always seemed like a type of magic.

The ceiling suddenly caught his attention as he remembered magic was something else he was supposed to work on. He should be able to make things just as easily as Toriel and Papyrus. Monsters were made of magic so it couldn’t be too difficult. 

After he made cinnamon rolls and did laundry he would try to do magic! Or maybe Toriel would be willing to teach him! He’d loved to have fiery attacks like hers.

_ Focus! _ He chastised himself. It took a bit of messing around with the cupboard doors that his hands tugged open before they moved on to the next cabinet and so on until he found the long silver sheet. 

All that was left was to open the roll. He picked fussily at the pull here sign until  it ripped in the wrong direction, now what? His fingers clamped against the silver piece on the ends and pulled with all the force they could muster until the batter ruptured out of each end.

Whoops, his eyes went wide as he stared at the expanding dough. His first finger hooked underneath the cardboard, he pulled up quickly and it uncoiled releasing the precut rolls inside. The roll pinched between his fingers in a gritty, squishy, texture that clung to him even after he set them down. He flopped them distastefully onto the tray with precisely the right amount of space between them. Perfect borders.

They were going to be so happy. He could see Frisk smiling now as the messy rolls were happily consumed. Toriel would argue that they were too sweet for dinner but let it slide because she was so proud of him! Then they would see how useful he was and let him do things too! He slid the sheet into the oven and shut the door. 

Once again he made the display match the numbers on the package before he scoured the house for something else to do. There was some laundry in the hot air washer that made the obnoxious clicking noise against the floor. He placed the basket beside him and got to work folding doing his best to keep them organized. 

It hardly took anytime at all though before he had everything folded… fairly neatly. As an added bonus the sticky feeling from the rolls had disappeared while he worked on the laundry. Sure, they weren’t as pretty as when Toriel did them but what could be expected when he didn’t have arms to fold them over? He wasn’t sure where the basket went from there so he left it in place, hopefully that wasn’t anything wrong. 

When he stepped outside of the washroom the oven emitted that obnoxious buzzing sound it did when things were done. Constant, buzzing, obnoxious, he felt his head pounding as the world started to tilt and blur in front of him. He stared numb at the display not quite sure of what he was even looking at. His ability to understand the dancing symbols in front of him was disjointed under the influence of the buzzers wail. 

“Stop,” he asked as firmly as he could muster but the oven wasn’t listening. His hands wrapped tightly around the handle hoping maybe opening the door would inform it he understood its’ complaint. 

He reached in and grabbed the sheet.

It was-- a new sensation. Like when he stuck his fingertips in the water by Waterfall. It prickled inside of his fingers but felt immovable on the outside. As he pulled back slowly the sensation grew worse as his palms began to itch. Everything told him he was supposed to drop the tray but he couldn’t communicate it with his hands. They wouldn’t drop it. Wouldn’t let go. He shook the tray up and down aggressively hoping his hands would get the message but they clung to it stubbornly. A whimper escaped him as the itch consumed his hands burrowing deeper and deeper inside of them until finally they let go.

The tray was flipped onto the top of the oven, some of the rolls moved in the pattern of their namesake back inside, while others flopped onto the floor, only one determined cinnamon roll clung to the tray as a proud defiance of its’ kinds failures. His hands hurt, the buzzer hurt, everything hurt and now he’d made a mess of the pretty kitchen. 

Maybe he could clean this up? Make it sparkly again? His breathing hitched as his hands retreated inside of the black mass of his form leaving him without the means to do anything else.

Fat heavy tar like drops fell from his form as the buzzer cried, heat rolled out of the oven, and his hands were hidden away inside of him. There was nothing he could do and now he was a mess. Toriel liked her kitchen, more than liked… What was more than like? She liked it so much and it was a mess. As more black rain fell from him he moved to find somewhere to hide from the sound so he could think of how to fix this.

Everything was sluggish to respond as the house tilted around him in a sickening blur of lights that stung and colors he could not name. The house started to lean to the shadows when he finally made his way to the bathroom door. He nudged it open gently with his head before he pressed the light switch off. The buzzer screamed in rage at him through the door like a neglected child as he buried his face in his lap.

They were going to hate him. Toriel would finally let him go outside but he wouldn’t be allowed back in, he wouldn’t be wanted back in. Frisk would tell him how much they regretted opening his door in the first place and how much time they wasted trying to make him good. He couldn’t be good. He could barely even be anything. They’d take away his cinabunnies because those were for good monsters.

Why was he thinking like that? They’d been nothing but nice to him but something was telling him they wouldn’t be anymore. Toriel had gotten upset with him but never rejected him-- but what if this was the tipping point?

A sound choked from him heavy and loud as black tears fell from his eyes. He didn’t know what he was doing as his chest stuttered freezing in odd angles that made him cough. The black from his eyes fell atop him but he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t blot it away. 

This was crying. Crying for real. Not just tears he didn’t know what they were doing. Now they were falling because he was sad, he was frustrated, that’s why monsters were supposed to cry. As his chest caught itself at an odd angle he felt a dull ache build along his dripping black form and sting against his eyes. Feeling like this made him hurt worse than he already did.

It was inevitable that they would return but that didn’t change the way he flinched when he heard their panicked footsteps. Even over the sound of the still screaming buzzer he could hear Toriel’s soft gasp: “Oh my.” After a few heavy footed steps the buzzing finally stopped and he deflated against the door content in his dark, silent, aside from the occasional trickle of water, room. Though now everything felt funny, fuzzy, like the inside of the pillow, as everything felt so far away in the echoes of silence.

“Aster?” Toriel called out, “Frisk have you seen him?”

Oh no, they were looking for him, his eyes bounced around the dark room wondering if he could hide somewhere better. He stretched his head as far up as he could but without his hands he couldn’t pull forward. His chest began to heave as he heard Frisk’s footsteps bounce up the stairs while the door next to this one was open then shut. Somewhere better to hide…

Finally he pulled away from the door a slick slimy suction of sound informed him he was still dripping, and what was worse, it was probably all over the door. Such a mess he was.

“Aster? Are you in there?” She called to the door.

“No!” He panicked.

“Oh dear,” she sighed. “Frisk he’s down here!”

A whimper escaped him without it meaning to as even her cherry bowl of a voice thrummed against the silence. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.

He didn’t want to answer but he knew she was waiting for an answer, “No,” he muttered, “I’m not,” he inhaled sharply, “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not,” he scrunched his eyes tight.

“Will you let me see you? Maybe I can help,” she spoke through the door. It was always through a door wasn’t? His door, her door, the bathroom door. There it was again, her door. What was her door? Did she have a home she couldn’t get back to too?

“You don’t want to see me,” his breath caught in his chest again.

“That’s not true dear-”

“Why do I have to stay here then?”

“Aster, please come out and talk to me,” she backed away from the door giving him the option to leave.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” She asked patiently.

“My- my hands hurt.”

“Oh my, that’s what I was afraid of. Aster, I’m going to open the door now don’t be shocked.” She waited a beat before she pulled the door open ruining his dark solace. He buried his face against the bend of his form hiding from the light that made his head feel sharp. “Let me see them.”

“Don’t touch,” he warned her.

“I won’t dear,” her fangs poked out gently from her lips as she smiled with encouragement, “but I need to see them.”

With shame written in fine script across his form his hands separated from his body. Long black threads were reluctant to let them go before they dripped onto the floor. “Sorry,” his fingers curled into fists as the fresh air stung at them.

“It’s just a little mess,” she hummed laying her hands out in front of her. Carefully, he laid the backs of his hands against the pads of her palms. Her expression reminded him of the petals on the table, “straighten your fingers please.”

It was a force of will to get each of the long white fingers to straighten across her hand. They were tinged with gray, the joints bled with small traces of black, while the hole in the center leaked earnestly of it. Toriel raised them away from her eyes to inspect them without her glasses, “Well, it appears they are trying to heal. Might I ask what you were doing with the oven?”

He shrank away from her as he explained his intentions with the backpack, what he had tried to do for them, and the mess he’d made of trying to make them dinner. With gasping breath he bemoaned about how useless he was and that was why they never wanted to see him. All the while Toriel listened, her hands wrapped in a brilliant moss green glow as she healed his hands best she could.

“Aster dear,” she raised her hand up to touch the side of his face but hesitated as the black goop still laid against her fur. “Perhaps I have been a bit overprotective of you. Would you allow me to explain my actions?”

She was asking him? He nodded uncertain what the options were. Toriel stood up from the floor to wash her hands in the sink before she extended her hand to him. It was tainted gray, utterly colorless, whatever the black in his joints had been must have stained her hands. He placed his in hers the effort of her pull encouraged him to leave the floor.

He liked when she held his hand, even if it was a bit unnecessary as they only walked to the living room. Toriel took a breath, “Aster, when Frisk and I leave through the week we go to school.”

That much he already knew. ‘I want to go too!’ He signed mildly amused by the slight tugging of pain in his fingers as they moved.

“I know you do,” her eyes were nothing short of sympathetic, “you have a very bright mind you would do well.” A compliment! He was very bright! He looked at his hands, but he couldn’t glow so how was he bright? “But the world we live in has some rules that must be followed.”

“Monsters need to be registered and it involves a lot of documentation, understanding, and pompous demands that are very hard to follow normally.” Just like that he was lost again none of that made any sense to him. “Humans are not made out of kindness like monsters are so they can react in many ways to something they don’t understand.”

Aster stared at his hands, “I don’t even understand what I am.”

“That’s the problem dear,” she rested her arm against the armrest of the couch fidgeting absentmindedly with the pillow case. “I don’t want you to go out there and get hurt before you even have a grasp for who you are.”

So, if he figured out who he was then he could go outside. If he was allowed outside then they would spend more time with him, let him do things. It sounded so simple but it felt so difficult. He had no idea who he was or if he was an anything at all. The idea still gnawed at him that he was something more once, or at least knew more, but he didn’t know how to pursue the thought.

The freshly made stitches caught under her claw and made her pay attention to what she had been messing with. She held it out in front of her with both hands eyeing it curiously. “Did you sew up your pillow?”

‘Yes. Sorry.’

“Sorry?” Her eyelights sparkled, “this is a wonderful job! You are very talented!”  As he sulked away uncertain of how to take the compliment she considered him, “I think when we leave I’m going to give you a few simple tasks to do around the house so you can feel helpful.”

‘I’d like that,’ he grinned as wide as he could muster.

“We’re going to have to work on your reading skills though.”

He pulled a face and she laughed, “All of that is for another time though. Aster. Do you know what today is?”

Oh no. He hated this question, he should know the answers by now but he didn’t. How many times had he been home in a row? He counted on his sore fingers, five. That meant, “It’s fiveday.”

“Friday,” she corrected, “which means tomorrow is?”

He dug deep into the recesses of his mind, his body twisted in on itself as he thought, “Saturday!” Ah! Saturday was the day that Toriel and Frisk didn’t do anything so they could stay with him! They played games and did things and they liked him most on Saturdays! And friends visited too! 

“Yes,” she soaked in his merriment, “that’s correct!”

“Saturday is my favorite!” 

She laughed, “I know dear. And I believe I promised you a surprise?”

His enthusiasm dropped like an unwanted receipt. ‘I wasn’t good though.’

“Nonsense, you folded laundry, and you fixed your pillow,” she consulted.

‘But the oven-’

“You simply tried to take too big of a step, nothing was damaged beyond repair and I’m more concerned with your hands than the condition of my oven,” she nudged him.

‘It being Saturday is good enough,’ his fingers tapped against one another, though, he was curious what the surprise was.

“Are you sure you do not want it?”

‘No,’ he signed simply.

Her ears perked up as her roaring bleat of a laugh filled the room with light and sang songs of joy to those that heard it, “I’m sorry,” she covered her mouth, “that was a bit much, your expression was just-” she giggled lightly. “Here dear, this is for you,” she produced a box that sat perfectly between her hands.

‘A box?’ He tilted his head as he inspected it, maybe it was for the bunnies? She didn’t like that he used the dresser to store his bunny battalion. 

She placed it beside him, “Open it.”

He lifted the lid off of the box to find a black rabbit looking up at him. His eyes sparked brilliantly as he removed the plush from the box hurriedly, “It’s a bun!”

“Do you like it?” She asked in eager anticipation.

The black plush was made out of a worn fleece material as if the fabric had been used for its intended purposes years ago only to return for one last project. All of the stitches were obviously done by cautious hands but they still faltered in a few places giving it a homemade feel. Two hand stitched purple eyes, just a little too close together, peered up at him.

For some reason the color red came to mind, a long red strand made of the same material, like the bunnies ears but longer. A gift. It was a very important special gift a surprise he had cherished for a long time.

His brows furrowed, this  _ would  _ be a surprise he  _ would  _ love for a long time. He’d never had a surprise before. The bunny was black not red. His thumb pressed against the fabric across the plush’s chest.

Tears fell down his face without meaning as he looked at the precious thing, “I more than like it...I love it.” That was the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter last week long chapter this week... whoops!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, hope you enjoyed!


	7. Papers Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus swing by so Frisk and Toriel can grab some groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew... it’s still Wednesday! Which means we are still on time! Haha
> 
> Thanks for the Kudos last week! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

“One. Two. Three. Or…” Aster made the signs for each of the numbers as he counted them aloud all of his features pinched into a focused expression.

“Fo--” Frisk started to whisper but Toriel shot them a haughty look and Aster gestured for them to be quiet. So much for helping then. Frisk leaned on the far side of the couch, knees curled up to their chest, happy to not have anything pressing to deal with today.

“Nine. Ten. Elven…” he paused looking up to the sky as if it was written above him, he shook his head, “El _ e _ ven,” he corrected.

“Very good,” Toriel cheered, “keep going!”

It was still so strange what Aster knew and what he didn’t. As much as he was struggling today Aster could normally fumble his way up to the thousands without too much difficulty but recognizing written numbers seemed to be much harder. He could sign answers to scarily advanced equations with his hands but the answers still eluded him if he had to speak them.

Reading was another difficulty for him. Aster had convinced Frisk and Toriel very eagerly that he knew how to read, he’d pull out a Fluffy Bunny book and ‘read’ it from beginning to end. Frisk had been incredibly impressed but Toriel was harder to fool. She tapped the word ‘meadow’ on the page and asked him what word she was pointing to.

After reciting all of the book up until that point he came to the answer. So not only had he memorized a book he’d heard twice but he knew the word count to each phrase as well. All without being able to actually read it.

He seemed to have a lot of fun with the struggle though, trying to find creative ways around the issues he struggled with. Frisk wasn’t sure if Toriel was aware of how many homework questions they had tossed to their newest housemate in an effort to finish early. It was a win win situation: Frisk got to finish their homework and Aster got to help with something so everyone was happy.

“I could do it yesterday,” Aster’s face scrunched in frustration and the rest of his body followed suit, “One. Two.” He rubbed his eyes like a tired toddler, “Three. Beryllium.” 

“Beryllium?” Toriel questioned.

“What’s beryllium?” Aster asked.

Toriel hummed thoughtfully but didn’t seem to come up with an answer, luckily, Frisk’s phone did: “ _ Beryllium is abbreviated as Be, a soft silver colored metal, with the atomic number 4. _ ”

Toriel’s wide burgundy eyes shut quick in an incredulous blink, Frisk’s narrow eyes did the same but finished much quicker. “Aster dear--” Before Toriel could even finish Aster shrugged falling a bit heavy against the couch.

“Why don’t we call it quits for the day?” Toriel insisted.

“But there’s so much left!”

“Of what?”

“The day! I don’t want to quit now!” 

She covered her mouth as her lips puckered, “Well then how about just a break?” He pulled a face as if she’d just proposed he clean the entire bathroom with his bare hands.

_ Aster isn’t a fan of breaks, _ Frisk committed it to memory. As long as they’d known him, and as long as they lived with him, they still knew so little about him, granted, he didn’t seem to know much about himself either. His name was Aster, maybe, he liked stars, but he’d never seen them before, bunnies, which had seemed pretty obvious he’d seen them before, and he was good at math, but only when signing.

They made it a goal to find things that Aster liked bringing anything to his attention that they could think of but nothing seemed to stick for more than a few hours. He liked games, memory in particular, but only played a match or two before he seemed utterly bored of it. If Frisk really thought about it they figured his favorite thing was helping them with their homework.

He was so curious what Frisk was doing when they would lay their papers across the table then groan until Toriel came to help them. One day he’d decided that was enough of that and gave them the answers to their math assignment. When they brought the paper back home to show him he was absolutely elated to discover an A was the best you could do. After that he sat beside them every night to try his best at subjects he knew nothing about. 

Frisk forced their mind back on the present unsure of how long they had been pondering, ‘Hey Aster, I’m going to get the mail.’

Aster moved to the window hands steeled against the curtains until Frisk stood at the front door. The fabric was spread apart just enough for him to discern it was too bright as he flinched away.

Frisk strolled to the end of the sidewalk taking in the way the air chilled against their exposed neck and chin. It wouldn’t be much longer until they needed more than just a sweater. They puffed a steamy breath into the air both relieved and disappointed not to see a dragon like fog escape them.

How much longer would it be before the first snowflakes of winter fell? They grabbed the mail from the box at the end of the driveway and glanced back to the house to see a disembodied hand waving from the window. Even if Aster couldn’t see them they waved back before starting back in.

Maybe by the time winter rolled around Aster would be adjusted enough to go outside. They smiled broadly imagining him fumbling in the snow unsure of what to do but eager to watch Frisk build a snowman or catch snowflakes on their tongue. One thing was for certain though: he was going to love snow days. Both themself and Toriel would stay home then the three of them could watch movies with the fireplace crackling a more than pleasant warmth.

The memory of hot chocolate scathed their tongue and coated their teeth as they painted the scene in their mind.

When they opened the door Aster was at the ready and grateful to receive the assortment of haphazard mail Frisk handed them before he turned around to pass it to Toriel. She paused with the mail clutched in her paw as Aster sat in front of the fireplace in an anticipation similar to a child who knew exactly when their favorite show was on. Once he seemed fully situated Toriel threw the papers into the flame.

They reacted as most things do when tossed into a fire: they curled at the ends growing darker as the flames licked away at them. The fire grew louder, popping and crackling as it ate ravenously at them, startling Aster just enough to encourage a hard blink. When the flames grew silent once more all that was left was a single envelope left entirely unscathed by the burning fire.

Aster looked cautiously up to Toriel who nodded, hardly paying any attention to the scene, before he reached into the moderately warm fire to retrieve the lonely envelope. Magic had become so prominently normal in Frisk’s life they forgot to be excited by it. They were used to the enchanted fireplace that only burned what was written without intent. Sometimes it burned important things but Toriel said if they didn’t care to put meaning in their writing then it wasn’t worth reading.

“Can I do fire magic too?” Aster queried still dreamily watching the flames.

“We aren’t for sure… what kind of magic you might have.”

“I’d really like fire magic.”

‘Magic reflects the user, whatever your bullets end up being will be true to who you are,’ Frisk supplied.

Aster looked at his hands finally drawing himself from his dreamlike state, “It’s going to be goop isn’t it? I’m gonna throw slime.”

Toriel chose not to walk down those train tracks as she turned back to the letter. They wanted to say something encouraging but there was still the chance they weren’t a monster at all and they’d never be able to use magic. How much would that upset him? He was obviously enamoured with it and they had seen him ‘practicing’ several times.

There was an obnoxious rukus of a knock against the door that disturbed the silence of everyone’s thoughts. Frisk started to their feet but Toriel touched their shoulder as she got up. The house was suddenly silent as quiet murmurs pressed against the door. Much quieter two knocks hit the door.

“Who's there?” Toriel called from the entryway.

“Skeletons,” came a familiar baritone accompanied by an aggravated groan.

Frisk giggled into their hand while Aster’s eyes lit up with recognition. 

“Skeletons who?”

“Skeletons who would like to be let in,” with that the door was opened as Toriel’s laugh filled the entryway.

Papyrus wasted no time heading straight to the living room to avoid anymore punishment by pun that did not stop the pair from continuing in the least bit however. 

“Not one of your best ones I’m afraid.”

“You know you found it  _ humerus _ ,” Sans winked.

“I thought it was  _ orbital  _ corny.”

“Come on Tor’ I was--”

Papyrus stomped his foot obstinately trying to drown out their terrible sense of humor: “Hello Human Frisk!”

‘Hello Skeleton Papyrus!’

“And greetings to you as well Aster!”

“Papyrus!” He signed his name while he spoke: “I haven’t seen you in…” He clamped his mouth shut, “Frisk? What’s longer than days but shorter than months?”

‘Weeks.’

“In weeks!” Aster nodded to himself trying to commit it to memory.

“It has been a while,” Papyrus lamented, “but we are here today!”

‘Mom and I have to get groceries but Sans and Papyrus wanted to keep you company while we were out!’

Aster covered his mouth, “You want to stay with me?”

Papyrus nodded sharply, “Yes! I figured I would grace you with my very impressive presence! And baffle you with my astonishing puzzle skills!”

‘Mom said no puzzles in the house,’ Frisk reminded him as hastily as they could move their fingers.

“No worries! This is a dancing puzzle!” Papyrus puffed his chest out a teasing smile across his teeth.

‘Dancing?’ Aster and Frisk signed in unison with the same vacant expression.

“Yes! Because, you see,” his sockets darted from side to side, “it is a  _ jig _ saw!” He summoned a box from his inventory as Frisk did their best not to react to the pun but the cheeky smile the skeleton was giving them was far too much: they laughed in spite of themself. “Nyeheheh! Victory!”

‘It’s a pity laugh!’

“Which still has laugh in it,” he argued. 

Aster peered at the sunstained, worn, old box, “Bunnies!” There was that silly smile again.

The image on the cover of the box, or at least what remained of it, was of a mother rabbit with two smaller ones curled up to her. It was a cute scene but it had definitely seen better days.

Papyrus dumped the box onto the table and Aster flinched, “Where are the bunnies?”

“We have to put them together, you see,” Papyrus started a far too detailed explanation about how to properly put together a puzzle that Aster seemed to focus well enough on.

“We’ll… be back soon,” Frisk worried the base of their sweater before they turned to separate their mother from a very un _ pun _ ny conversation. On the fourth try they finally succeeded.

The grocery run was in honor of Papyrus coming back from his most recent school tour; he never left Ebott but it was difficult to find time to do things with him during these times. He dove into the title of Mascot as if it was some predetermined destiny. It had started simply enough: he was a friendly face that would meet with humans of all levels of tolerability and even step up to defend Camp from time to time. His magic was always in perfect control that prevented anyone from getting harmed on accident.

When it came time to push for permission to move into the city Papyrus was the first one with an apartment that he left open for any monster or human that might need his assistance. As kind of a gesture as it was, and as well as it had worked out for Papyrus, the same couldn’t be said for Sans. It wasn’t long before the pair moved back into Camp.

Now that everything had found its place and things were balancing out Papyrus sought after new ways to assist in the relations between monsters and humans somehow becoming a motivational speaker of sorts. Touring to all of the schools in Ebott to speak on monster’s behalf.

“Is the tote back there my child?” Toriel asked softly as she started the car.

Frisk twisted around in their seat to feel around the floorboards for their grocery tote. They gave their mom a thumbs up and the plum purple SUV headed towards the city. 

As they watched the autumn painted trees fade into the distance they were left with the same soft touch of melancholy they always were as a sea of bricks entrapped their vehicle. The city wasn’t anything too grand or out of the ordinary, but it did have a homey feel to it. Cozy shops with painted glass windows marked their way shining all sorts of products at them. The bakery always caught their eye as fresh baked bread sat perfectly golden in view of their car as they passed.

“It makes me so happy to see you with Aster,” Toriel singsonged as they pulled toward the backlot of the old grocery store. Frisk raised their brow looking over to her. “It’s like he’s your little brother,” she smiled as if there were nothing but light in the world.

She opened her car door, “It’s obvious you think about him a lot… And I know I shouldn’t regard him as a child but,” she sighed.

‘Well, he’s probably still younger than you,’ they grinned cheekily.

Her gaze was scalding as she bore her burgundy eyes into Frisk’s ruined when a smile tugged at the end of her muzzle, “I believe I taught you better manners.”

When they approached the doors Toriel paused to reach into her purse and retrieve her wallet. Inside the doors the officer barely looked up from his desk before he reached out his hand for Toriel’s ID. It was slipped through a machine that beeped a few times before it was passed back and she was gestured along.

Once the officer turned away Frisk stuck their tongue out receiving a sharp tug on their sweater, “He was just doing his job.”

‘It’s a bad job.’

“That they did not seem to take any joy in,” Toriel started skimming through the aisles adding various boxes and jars into her tote. Frisk folded their arms haughtily.

The IDs were a flimsy safety net for nervous humans who looked at monsters like their mom and only saw the horns or claws. The pieces of plastic were mandatory for entrance at most shops to keep unregistered monsters out of the city. 

Some humans collected the IDs and would store them in books like some sort of trading card game. They would steal them from the monsters that needed them or worse: take them from their dust as if it was some sort of challenge. Frisk hated the books, they hated the IDs that were used as a means of classifying their friends.

Printed across them was everything a standard ‘check’ would reveal and more: height, weight, bullet types, and threat level. Originally monsters with a high threat level weren’t allowed in shops anymore than unregistered monsters. They had all been monsters of a ‘naturally dangerous composition’ ones made of flame, or coated in spikes, had been all but drawn out of the city left to their own devices.

They could feel their ears start to burn as they lingered on the unsavory subject.

“Would you like to pick out a sweet?” Toriel put her paw on their shoulder pulling them away from the bitter thoughts.

Frisk took a steadying breath as they started to meander along the aisles skimming them up and down without anything standing out. They just weren’t in the mood for shopping now. With their hands tight in their pockets they were about to tell Toriel as much when a red and blue box caught their eye. With a bit of perk back in their step they displayed the box to Toriel, ‘For Aster!’

Star cut cakes coated in cheap generic frosting and stuffed with not-quite-whip cream were printed across the box accompanied by a multitude of far too enthusiastic comments written inside yellow stars. The whole thing was over the top gaudy just to look at. “My child,” Toriel sighed, “all we need it Aster to start another drawer full of pastries.”

Without care for Toriel’s warning Frisk slipped the box into the tote, “Fine. But I’m going to pick a pint of ice cream.”

‘Sounds fair.’

Toriel rubbed her arm against the foggy freezer door trying her best to squint at the labels inside. Satisfied, the tugged open the door and pulled out a carton then displayed it to Frisk: Bunny Tracks. 

So it seemed Frisk wasn’t the only one thinking of Aster, they laughed while Toriel chuckled. They grabbed the rest of the ingredients for the spaghetti cake before they made their way to the registers. From there it was back into the car for the ride home.

There were more people out now then there had been and Frisk watched as they walked along the shops completely unaware that they were being watched. A nervous migosp was trying to cross the street when a pair of humans startled it. The poor monster ran down the sidewalk the opposite way they were aiming for.  _ Jerks. _

So what if they were a hypocrite? So what if they had made the same mistakes not believing that monsters were actually good? They had learned from their mistakes and quickly changed their way trying harder to befriend them, get to know them, and learned they were so much kinder than any human they had ever met. 

“Hey… mom?” She hummed to let them know she was listening. “Is it. Is it bad that I-I don’t have a-any human friends?”

She was quiet for a long while giving the thought some proper weight before she dared to speak on it. “I wish you would challenge yourself to interact with your own kind outside of proper events,” she finally stated. “I do not think it is bad that you prefer your monster companions but I hope someday you will be able to branch out.” 

Her shoulders dropped as she began to skim the streets, “I know you had a-- less than savory time before we met you but I’m certain their are humans just as kind, compassionate, and thoughtful as you are…” Without looking over to them she combed back their hair, “You just need to give them a chance.”

Such a mom answer. Frisk stewed on her words until they pulled back into the driveway. 

Quickly they grabbed the cake snacks out of the tote and grabbed the keys from their mom. They turned effortlessly in the lock leaving them in the vacant entryway, “In here Frisk!” Papyrus called.

Their smile faltered when they saw Papyrus was alone on the couch, ‘Hello Papyrus.’ 

He smiled knowingly, “You are wondering where Aster is.” The coffee table was pushed gently back into place, the nearly finished puzzle’s pieces jostled as a complaint, “He wasn’t doing very well so--”

‘What’s wrong?’

“I assure you everything is fine,” he threw his hands up in defence, “he was merely light headed and unable to focus so Sans helped him upstairs… several minutes ago.”

Toriel heard from the kitchen and was already up the stairs when Frisk had the same idea. They pushed open the guest room door to see Sans curled up on the side of the bed closest to the door; pillow both under his head and secure in his arms. On the other side facing the window was Aster black rabbit held close to his chest. For longer than necessary they watched as the slumbering pair breathed almost in sync before they shut the door.

“He acted as if he’d never been tired before,” Papyrus did his best impression of a whisper, “which is something I can admire!”

“We’ve never seen him sleep before,” Toriel informed him.

“Well, some sleep is good,” Papyrus nodded, “but I fear my brother might be a bad influence.”

The three of them stared at the door for a little while longer, “Why don’t we start on lunch?” With that they left the snoozing pair upstairs and headed down into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately and let me tell you this simple trip to the market was super dark until Monday(?) because of it. It involved protestors is all I’m saying. It was a major chunk of the chapter so I had to fix a lot. 
> 
> As such this isn’t super edited and I apologize if it was rough to read. I hope it was still enjoyable for you all though. Thanks for your continued support we’re gonna start putting Aster back together next week!


	8. Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus come over one evening to help Aster with magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many comments and kudos last week! Thank you so much!

The outside part of the door  _ did  _ match the inside. It was the same reddish color with the same four indents at the bottom and pretty circle glass window. The night sky was bedazzled by more stars than he could ever see from the windows. A breeze blew over him with a biting, chilling, cold to it but Aster found himself positively giddy every time the wind wrapped around him like a scarf, even if he had no idea as to why.

It felt like he was breathing for the first time. He held his hand to his chest in order to feel the subtle sinking and raising of it.

This was the Surface.

Grass was prickly, but soft, pale glowing lights looked like miniature moons atop their poles, and the air tasted so different than in the caves, or the house, how had he missed all of this when he first came here?

A soft smile fell into the whites of his eyes as he watched utterly mesmerized as almost silver bone bullets twirled in the air catching the subtle light from the front porch. Papyrus’s bullets spun about him in a multitude of different directions before they converged like teeth on a single point in the air. 

With a soft gasp Aster pulled away as if they might be aimed to bite down atop him but they dissolved into a shiny powder that was gone before it hit the ground. Sans snickered at the display but joined in when Aster began to applaud.

 Papyrus’s chest inflated to absorb the adoration. “Thank you! But you are supposed to be observing not entertained!”

‘I can do both!’

“Well then! Let's see you try!”

Oh, this was the hard part. It was easy to watch Papyrus be ‘cool’ but doing it himself seemed impossible. His palms flipped up to face the sky and he concentrated on the space between them.

Magic was an expression of the monster’s soul… who was he? His bullets would take the shape of whatever he was meant to be, what he was supposed to be, and everyone would be less worried about him. When he summoned his first bullet they’d all know who he was; even him. 

But, as he held his hands in front of him, studied the air around them, focused until his mind seared like a pan fresh from the oven nothing happened. Nothing changed. Still no magic. Just… nothing.

“Hey if you can’t get it don’t worry about it,” Sans shrugged, “if you can use magic you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Yes! There is no need to look so down! It may take some time for your magic to manifest! And I’m sure it will be just as cool as mine!”

Aster stretched up to his full height, “I could never be as cool as you!”

Papyrus laughed and Aster immediately felt better after his failed attempt. Something about that laugh just felt so, he searched for a word but none came to him. It was a good laugh though. “Maybe so,” Papyrus lamented, “I have achieved a higher level of cool than most, but no! I believe you can be nearly almost as amazingly cool as me!”

“I would like that very much,” Aster turned away bashfully rubbing at his cheeks as if there were a stain upon them.

He wasn’t sure why but he felt different when Sans and Papyrus were around: as if they could just steal away all his worries and hide them in very difficult spots. It was different than with Frisk and Toriel but he couldn’t place exactly how. He certainly enjoyed seeing everyone! Even Alphys who he kept forgetting he’d spoke to made him happy. There was just something different about the ‘skeleton brothers’ that he just couldn’t figure out. 

“Hold your hands out again,” Papyrus flipped his palms to the sky and Aster rested the back of his hands atop them. “Now close your eyes and think of what makes you happy!”

He started off with his usual list imagining each shape in his head before he paused: what made him really happy? His chest inflated as he demanded himself to think deeper. Laughter like Papyrus’s, or Toriel’s rafter filling one, Sans’s quiet snicker, Frisk’s breathless giggles, he felt himself smiling. What else… the feel of nice fabric, the thoughtful stitches in his black rabbit, the way light filtered through the stained glass window, the color red-- 

He flinched as an unfamiliar sound perturbed his thoughts.

Papyrus had his phone pointed towards him with an embarrassed grimace across his face, “Sorry… I didn’t know the sound was on.” He chuckled nervously before he turned the phone around, “You just looked so happy I couldn’t resist!”

Something about the image felt off to him. That was the same face he saw in reflective surfaces, it was him, but something about the smile didn’t seem right. It reminded him of all of the pictures of Frisk’s friends maybe he was a friend now too so he could smile like that? He pressed his finger to the screen over his mouth, “I do.”

Sans’s sockets seemed to slouch as much as his shoulders, “Happy thoughts not working for ya?”

Oh, right they were practicing magic, he shook his head.

“If I may try my hand at this whole coaching thing,” he rolled his hand on his wrist, “maybe think of what you want it to do. Helps me focus.”

“Well with any luck Aster’s bullets will be much more tame than yours,” Papyrus rubbed the back of his head. “But you are very good at it Sans!”

“Shucks,” Sans kicked at a blade of grass as if he were bashful. 

“I want them to tell me who I am, or what at least,” Aster fidgeted with his fingers as he spoke.

“Ya got it backwards Aster,” Sans smiled-- well, he always did but this was more in his sockets, “your bullets will reflect you not the other way around. You’ll have to have a sense of self, a piece of who you are, before your magic will respond.”

“A piece of who I am…Where can I find it?”

Sans and Papyrus exchanged a glance as if they were mentally playing rock, paper, scissors to decide who had the answer for that. “You’re lookin’ in the right places,” Sans started.

“You’ve come so far since we first met you! You’re only going to continue to learn more about yourself!”

“It’s a lifelong thing,” Sans shrugged, “everyday everyone learns a little bit more about themselves.”

“I’m sure it won’t be long at all before you grace us with your amazing magic!”

Aster wasn’t so sure, “What if it’s goo?”

“Then it will be your goo! And it will be very cool because it’s yours!”

“What he means is: whatever it ends up being it will be  _ goo _ d.”

“Sans! That wasn’t what I was saying at all!” He paused, “Okay, it might have been but I wouldn’t have used such a terrible pun!”

He started laughing he couldn’t help himself, hearing them banter like that just made him feel like he was made of bubbles, “You’re such good boys.” The fingers on his right hand rubbed at the base of his left, “I wish I was like you. Good, fun, bright, smart, and kind,” he nodded to himself, ''Yes. I would very much like to be like you.”

“Well I happen to be a wonderful role model!” Papyrus beamed. “But you are already all of those things!” Sans nodded in quiet agreeance and Aster found himself staring in a state of dumbstruck awe until tears began to prick in his sockets.

“Eh? What’s wrong?” Papyrus’s hands flew up in front of him as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Tired?” Sans yawned.

He nodded, “But I’m happy too!”

Sans and Papyrus walked him back inside and Aster bid a silent farewell to the wind wondering when he’d be allowed to visit it again. It was another thing he liked. Another piece of him.

“Hey,” Frisk’s voice cracked from the kitchen entryway when they were halfway up the stairs, ‘I thought we were going to go stargazing.’

“We still can kiddo but I think Aster’s a bit too  _ spacey _ already,” Sans winked.

‘Good night Aster!’ Frisk signed enthusiastically.

“Good night,” he smiled back.

Aster practically melted into bed grabbing his black rabbit and pressing it to his chest before he slipped under the covers. Papyrus slid open the drawer that held the Fluffy Bunny books and picked one out, “Hey Sans?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you read it?”

For a long moment Sans stared into the middle distance lost in a train of thought so fast no one could catch it. He let out a hefty sigh, “Sure bro.” He took the book and sat at the edge of the bed.

He’d never heard Sans read before! His soft yawn like voice carried over the narration but would change like the flip of a switch when one of the characters spoke. If he wasn’t watching him through half closed eyes he’d almost think it was someone else. Sans was very talented, that’s what Aster decided as he found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. 

Sans and Papyrus were so nice. Toriel and Frisk were so good. He really felt, maybe, he wouldn’t mind if he couldn’t find that gray door again. In fact, he’d really like to find his pieces like Sans said.

He didn’t catch the end of the story but his eyes flew open when the door clicked shut. Without any effort at all he fell back to sleep.

Everything around him was dark. Fathomless to the point even his own form was lost within it. He could tap his fingers together and feel the gentle pressure from the motion but no matter how much he moved them in front of his face he couldn’t find a trace of them. 

“Hello?” He called into the emptiness around him but there was no echo. No call back. No quick steps to check on him. He was alone. Panic erupted in his chest, shooting like hungry flames across him, “Frisk!” His voice sounded odd, broken, but correct. It seemed to warble about in front of him but he couldn’t see the words at all.

Nothing. There was nothing. Slowly, his fear and reluctance drained away from him with the realization that he was back home. That was good! He liked home, that’s what he’d wanted more than anything and he had it. 

There was a subtle tug against his form as he felt more than just his fear drain away. The words in his head began to fall to the wayside as his thoughts stilled, there wasn't any need for such things here. Thinking at home just made everything worse, made everything hurt, but the darkness was kind enough to take it from him.

Frisk’s squinty eyed smile blossomed in his mind but before it could slip away from him he held tight to it. Was Frisk going to miss him? He didn’t get to say goodbye... Toriel would think him very rude, maybe he could find a way to tell them he was home at least. His arms flew to his sides to comfort him, he hadn’t told Sans and Papyrus either. This wasn’t how he was supposed to go home. This was wrong! This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen! 

The door. There hadn’t been a door. The door was supposed to take him home so this wasn’t it! It couldn’t be it! “Hello?!” He shouted with all his might as his voice clipped with that strange but familiar sound, “Frisk! Toriel! I’m right here!”

He shouted, screamed, made senseless noise for as long as he could muster until his throat grew numb. All he was left with was nothing but the silence around him that seemed far too loud after his fit. A small whimper escaped him as he fought desperately to keep his memories about him as they were tugged away from him like some unknown entity had discovered the backspace key for the first time.

Surely he wouldn’t forget Frisk… Forget Toriel? After all of the kindness they’d shown him they were irreplaceable! He refused to believe it was possible to forget them. As he defied the siphon of his thoughts, his memories, the smiles of those he cared about, the sound of laughter, the feel of wind, his form began buckle with weariness. It felt worse than needing to sleep, it felt as if he was sleeping inside of Toriel’s pin case. Disappointment settled over him as he realized the uselessness of his actions.

There were so many of the friends he hadn’t met yet…

Maybe.

He didn’t want to be home.

“Dr. W.D.--” Whatever was said next sounded like cotton in the air and lead in his mind.

It had always just been him at home and that certainly wasn’t him.

A gray figure appeared in front of him. They were gray, squatty, with large white eyes that stared directly at him, directly through him. It didn’t blink, it didn’t move, it simply stared with those wide white eyes. Aster whimpered pathetically in its presence doing his best to get away, but just when it seemed he could place some distance between them another appeared.

This one was tall, hunched over, with a wide wicked smile, and a large white eye on the side of its’ head staring him down with the same empty expression as the other. “You did it,” the smile grew even wider as it spoke, “you made it out!” It laughed a high pitched bird like laugh that hurt Aster’s head. “Now you’re going to free us right?”

He could feel the black of his form ripple and curl in disgust but from what he wasn’t sure. These monsters didn’t seem bad, but they weren’t in Frisk’s pictures, they didn’t make him happy, and he certainly didn’t know them. Even if they seemed to know him.

“We found pieces just like you asked,” the second one singsonged.

“So you’ll free us too!” The first’s tiny mouth tucked into a u shape as it appeared beside the other.

Aster covered his face but it did him no good, he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to talk to them, he didn’t want to go home! It wasn’t like he remembered at all! Who were these figures? Why did they act like they knew him?

They didn’t move. They didn’t take a single step but when he pulled his hands down they were suddenly in front of him with their hands outstretched floating pieces of-- the word flickered in his mind and hurt. The fragments were every bit as dark as the void around them but there was something different to them. As they levitated above the palms of their hands they would occasionally pulse a color. Sometimes a dingy gray, sometimes a deep violet, but he couldn’t recognize what they were.

He shoved their hands away but they didn’t move. They barely even seemed to notice.

“Go away!” He screamed and the world around him cracked like a broken mirror. Shards of blindingly bright light pierced through the veil. Long white cracks leapt about from fragment to fragment making a sound like crunching bones as it jutted through the darkness. He felt his hands clasped around his right eye, the sound unsettled something deep inside him that left a bitter taste in his mouth.  

With a ferocity he didn’t know himself to possess burned in his eyes he turned back to the figures. Whatever they were holding was gone. What did they do? 

The light poured down upon them cutting through the gray figures as if they were chalk in the rain. They vanished without another word. It was burning him away, erasing everything about him, consuming him with a wall of sound that he could do nothing against. He writhed in the pain that thrummed blinding him, deafening him, stripping him of every last sense he had.

Suddenly everything was soft, but it bristled against him when he moved, so he remained as still as he could. With his eyes squeezed tight he could just barely recognize the familiar scent of cinnamon. His fingers clasped hungrily at the soft texture desperate for any sort of comfort he could reach. Slowly the brassy beat in his head left him and he could hear a soft cherry like voice whispering in soft tones to him.

“Toriel?” His voice hiccuped in weird tones written in shapes that were much easier to read but harder to understand. He inhaled sharply, “Toriel?” Much better. His words were back to their proper shape in the binding box. He looked up to her, finally opening his eyes to see the dimly lit bedroom. A sob choked out of him and he buried his face in her shoulder once again.

“It was just a bad dream Aster,” she rubbed his back with a closed fist making sure the scratchy nature of her pads were hidden away.

She held him in a warm, comforting, embrace far longer than was necessary but Aster didn’t have the strength to pull away. He wanted to stay right there where it was safe, where everything was good as cinnamon and warm as, well, her. How long had he been gone to where this made him feel so good?

No, she was the one that was gone. For a long time he felt. And he’d missed this for all of that time. That’s why he couldn’t pull away, he missed her so much.

He started to sniffle again as he thought about the dull ache inside of him but she pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, “Now none of that dear. Don’t get yourself worked up again.” 

There was a black smudge against her cheek and where his hands were by her shoulders. The hole in the center of them was leaking again. He pulled away just enough to take in his room. It was riddled with black patches as if splattered with a thick paint. Sticking out from each splotch was a black half formed bone. She watched for a moment as his eyes darted between each spot, “Bullets dear. Magic. You seem to have finally figured it out!” He caught the weariness in her eyes even if she spoke with pride.

“Bad,” he muttered far too tired himself to even think of anything else to say. Magic was supposed to do what you asked, if it behaved on its’ own it was bad. You could hurt someone. Someone very important. Very fragile.

“No dear this is good--” Aster finally pulled away from her to curl up on the bed they were sitting on. Get away. That’s what you did when your magic was bad. You needed space. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. It was better if he didn’t have magic if it was like this. 

_ Thunk _

He jerked up just in time to see a black bone pierce the ceiling, first with a piercing sound then with a sickening slosh. “You’re going to be okay,” Toriel consulted, “this happens to everyone at first, you’ll figure it out.”

“Why are you nice to me?” Aster asked, “You went away because you didn’t like me anymore. Why are you back? Why do you say nice things to me?”

Toriel was quiet for a long while nibbling at the inside of her lip as she thought, “Aster. I’m not sure what you are speaking of. Could you clarify?”

“You just… you went away,” he picked at his fingers, “I don’t know when, I don’t know where, you just… didn’t like me anymore.”

She ran her hand along the side of his head as she laid down beside him, “I don’t know what you think happened but I assure you it was just a dream.” Gently she unfurled his fingers from one another, “You are a good monster Aster. I know it. I don’t know what you did, or what you think you did, but you deserve every bit as much kindness as anyone else.”

“You’re a little lost sheep dear, and I want to help you find your place. Just like Frisk does, just like Papyrus, and Sans, we all want you to be happy.”

“I want to be good. I want to be happy,” Aster smiled tightly as his eyes finally pointed into her burgundy ones, “you are very nice Toriel. I want to be as good as you.”

She smiled a bit sadly, “I’ve made my mistakes too. I have done some… terrible and foolish things. Up here, I have found ways to prevent these mistakes from defining me. Of course it took several decades of wallowing for that to happen.”

“Do I need decades?”

“No dear, you just need sleep for now, you’ll feel better in the morning I promise.” She brushed his head one last time before she moved off of the bed, “sweet dreams this time okay?”

“I will try,” he clasped his hands together and curled as tightly to them as he could, “Toriel?”

“Hm?”

“Good night.”

“Good night Aster.”

He was surprised how tired he was, how weary every inch of him felt. It wasn’t that long ago sleep wasn’t necessary at all but he’d grown accustomed to it. He liked it even. In fact, as long as no strange dreams bothered him, he could even say it was a favorite. He was proud of himself for learning to like so many different things. These were his pieces and he was going to find more every day.

A drip of black from the ceiling fell on him and he recognized he’d also learned a few things he really didn’t like at all. He scooched further over on the bed so the drip couldn’t get him. Tomorrow he would feel better.

 

* * *

 

And tomorrow he did feel better. He felt a lot better! As he gazed around the room all that remained of his bullets were the splatter marks of black. They weren’t even gooey anymore! Which was good because they were very messy.

When he slid off the bed a soft clattering sound followed him. He tilted his head surprised to see a bunch of things on the bed. Where did they come from?

Frisk poked their head through the doorway, ‘You’re awake, I wanted to see how you were. Mom said--’

Aster waved lameley at them as he stared at the contents on the bed. A scratched up, well used, white board with a marker attached caught his attention first. There wasn’t anything written on the surface but as he uncapped the marker he found it still wrote just fine. ‘Mom give you that to practice with?’ Frisk asked as they plopped onto the bed.

He was far too distracted by the items that had shown up out of nowhere to answer. He reached for a black screen, no, it was a phone. Frisk beat him to it and turned it over in their hands after a moment they slid the keyboard out. The buttons on the keyboard were hand painted with an assortment of silly symbols, smiley faces, frowning faces, fingers, and crosses but for some reason he was reading them easier than normal letters. Right across the rows they were the same as on Toriel’s phone. 

‘Where did you get this?’ Frisk tried to turn the device on but the battery seemed to be dead.

‘It was here when I woke up,’ Aster narrowed his brows as he scanned the bed reaching next for a silver house key. The handle was smooth lacking edges, probably from overuse, and there were several scratches along the part that went in the door.

Frisk seemed lost in thought for a while before they sparked with excitement, ‘It’s your inventory! You opened it!’

Aster smiled widely, ‘Then these are my things! They’re pieces of me!’

Suddenly Frisk was very excited feeling around the bed for anything with a clue to who he was: a pair of square framed black glasses, another key, and a portable sewing kit. Nothing that stood out as particularly important. Frisk sighed as they held the keys against each other, ‘Do you need to wear glasses?’

Aster shook his head.

‘Didn’t think so.’

That was disappointing. The inventory was supposed to tell him who he was. None of these items even seemed related. 

He remembered the sound of something following him off the bed and reached under the skirt to find it. 

It was a small rectangle that felt cold in his hand, dull gray in color, with some gold squiggles on it, and a cap that flicked to the side but it held no more clues than anything else. Holding it though, it felt important. Like it belonged to someone that was more than he was. His thumb slid up the side quickly and a warm flame burned where the cap had been.

‘A lighter?’ Frisk asked as they reached towards it, ‘Do you know--’

“Aster! Frisk!” Toriel’s voice was stern as she stormed into the room, “Where on earth did you get a lighter?” Aster knew that voice, before she could even ask him to give it to her he held it out. She took the lighter from him only to freeze at the contact. She turned it over several times as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Much softer she repeated her question.

‘Aster’s inventory opened up,’ Frisk relayed.

“So. This is yours,” she spoke slowly to make sure she was understood.

Aster shrugged staring curiously up to Toriel. ‘What is it mom?’

“I cannot be sure, but…” she turned it over, “I think this is Asgore’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... that happened.


	9. Asters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgore comes over to visit with Aster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so nice! There were so many kudos and comments these last two weeks! And not just on this one either! The view count never really hit the stalemate it tends to so I guess just thank you!

Toriel was a twirling tempest in a dance lead by dusters and brooms a deep scowl ruining her soft features. Every inch of the house was cleaned to such a thoroughness that any mouse might believe itself to be in a four star hotel. The cushions for the couch had been shaken free of crumbs, the mantel above the fireplace didn’t have a speck of dust on it, and the floor glistened without a trace of ever having been tread upon.

Aster and Frisk did their best to stay out of the way sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Frisk had learned a long time ago that when mom got worked into a cleaning frenzy it was best to stay out of the way. Which is why they were typing up yet another message to their favorite yellow lizard. Aster on the other hand, well he was still learning. 

‘Is A-S-G-O-R-E bad?’ Aster signed so small it seemed he was afraid she could hear the gesture.

Frisk looked up from their phone, ‘No he’s not bad. He’s ‘Goat Dad’ remember?’

Aster stared at the corner of the coffee table as if it had personally offended him, ‘Flowers and smiles.’

‘Right!’

‘But when she says his name its’ written in red… it looks bad…’

They nuzzled deeper into the couch cushions, ‘Mom and Dad just have… a strained history.’ There really wasn’t a good way to put it and Aster certainly didn’t need the full story before he met the big fluffy pushover. 

‘Like pasta…’

Before Frisk could ask what he meant their phone buzzed:  _ Frisk! I am working as fast as I can >.< Extracting information is much harder than I thought it would be @.@ There are way too many security measures on this phone! Haha ^^’ So PLEASE be patient! I’m curious too <3<3<3 _

It was going to take time. They knew that… but wasn’t a whole day long enough to get around some old phones security measures? With any luck there would be messages from loved ones, or photos, or something that would just tell them who Aster was. Of all the things from his inventory it was the only one that held a guaranteed promise of something! Even if it was Asgore’s lighter it didn’t mean he knew the monster that had it.

Hopefully it did though! Maybe they were childhood friends that grew seperate over the years, then something tragic happened that stole away all of Aster’s memories, but upon seeing his old friend again he’ll remember everything as if by magic! Frisk blinked: they’d been watching too many anime. But, they really did hope it could be that simple.

Asgore knew every monster of the Underground after all, so maybe this had more promise than they thought!

The doorbell rang singing a welcoming tune to the former King of monsters; even if the matriarch of the house turned heel to head to the kitchen. Frisk sprang up to answer the door but reconsidered, ‘Do you want to greet him?’

Aster pressed himself far enough into the couch it seemed his black form were actually capable of disappearing into it. That was a no then. They straightened the wrinkles along their jeans then opened the door to receive the usual robust: “Howdy Frisk.”

Goat Dad was dressed as if he were on a cheap date with a yellow floral print loose fitting button down, a purple suit jacket, and deeper purple pants. It… really didn’t suit him. Not that the armor ever fit right but this was just stickily formal. What had Toriel told him he was coming over to do? Still, his golden hair and beard were well kept and that twinkle in his eyes were shining so it really didn’t matter what he wore.

Frisk threw their arms as close as they could to around him happy to receive a soft but steady hug back, “Golly it feels like forever since I’ve seen you.” He smelled of fresh grass clippings and something syrupy sweet.

‘Sorry school has been really busy lately,’ they hoped it wasn’t too lame of an excuse. ‘How’s the garden?’

“Making sure my late season plants are going to make it through the winter. I heard autumn was a good time to plant and I am hoping I was not misled,” his massive paws combed through his beard. “Ah, but I suppose we are not here to speak of such things, allow me to unload a few items and start a pot of tea.”

It wouldn’t be a visit from Goat Dad without one of his teas. Now that he had his own garden he made his own brews… to various degrees of success. 

“Oh? Who have we here?” Asgore smiled broadly to the living room where Aster was now clinging to the entryway shyly peering out to him.

‘That’s A-S-T-E-R,’ Frisk spelled out assuming he wouldn’t recognize ‘bunny ghost’ as a name.

“I am happy to meet you Aster.”

“You…” Aster’s stare was just short of vacant but the black of his eyes were narrowed, “have a nice voice.”

Asgore laughed, a decent impression of jolly old Saint Nick, “Why thank you! Aster is a lovely name. In fact, it's one of my favorite flowers.”

“Aster’s a flower?”

“Indeed. They are a pale blue, no more of a soft purple I think… Perhaps a periwinkle?” He shut his eyes with thought before he remembered the conversation he was engaged in, “Anyways, A long time ago they were believed to be enchanted, capable of warding off evil spirits, but now they are a symbol of patience and love.” 

A small smile grew on Aster’s face and Frisk knew they were going to have to pop his bubble. As the conversation fell to the wayside Asgore dismissed himself to join Toriel in the kitchen. Frisk strained their hearing for a little while to ensure the two didn’t immediately fall into arguing but when everything stayed quiet they turned back to Aster’s smile, ‘You’re not a flower.’

“But he said--”

‘You don’t have petals do you?’

“No.”

‘Or a stem?’

“No.”

‘Then you are not a flower.’

He let out a long drawn out sigh that was a bit on the dramatic side but made Frisk giggle. ‘I’m sorry we’ve put so much stress on you to figure out who you are.’

‘I’m working on it,’ he looked down to them, ‘I’m going to find me. Piece by piece. Like a puzzle.’

There was a certain amount of focus and drive in that statement that Frisk didn’t typically associate with the amicable Aster. Maybe they had put too much of a focus on trying to figure out where he came from instead of just letting him be who he was now. What would happen if they never found out or what if he really was worth bewaring? 

If Asgore didn’t have any answers and the phone didn’t either they should all probably just enjoy their time together. Yeah, Aster was learning and happy that’s what mattered. Even if it took a long time to get any sort of an answer Frisk would just have to be patient. ‘I’m glad I met you.’

He seemed taken off guard by that before he bowed his head like a nobel, “I’m glad I met you Frisk.” 

“Aster dear? Do you want to come in here?” Toriel called from the kitchen, the harshness from earlier not evident in her tone.

‘That’s your cue,’ Frisk wrapped their hand around his.

His spare hand clenched over where his stomach would be, “It hurts.”

“You’re just nerv-ous.”

“Nervous,” he squeezed their hand, “okay.”

Asgore was always so much larger than their wooden furniture his large legs sticking out to the sides of the chair making him sit quite a ways from the table. As promised a teapot was fast at work brewing a unique smelling tea that didn’t quite belong with the lingering scent of cleaning supplies. Frisk pulled out a chair for Aster who in turn pulled out a chair for Frisk before they sat in unison.

“Well, Aster,” Asgoreadjusted himself in the wooden chair to face them, “it seems you are quite an interesting house guest.”

“Thank you,” he averted his eyes, “I try.”

Asgore chuckled, “Well I am happy to see someone bring so much joy to this household.” Bravely he dared a glance in Toriel’s direction only to catch the side of her head as she turned away. He tapped the lighter against the table, “Do you know what this is?” He displayed it for Aster to see.

“Toriel said it was a lighter.”

“It is indeed, a magic lighter my family had passed down for generations,” he spun it between his palms and his fingers swallowing. A sadness Frisk had thought was banished fell across his shoulders like heavy pauldrons. “My father gave it to me the day I summoned my first fire bullet, as was customary. He was very proud of me.”

“That day he lead me down the halls of the castle to show every knight stationed there this lighter. It was a blessing of manhood,” Toriel snorted but Asgore didn’t even bother taking his eyes off the little piece of metal. “I had feared I lost it during the war, well, I suppose I did.”

Frisk hadn’t heard hardly anything about Asgore’s childhood outside of a few questions they’d peppered him with but nothing ever got so personal as to see him this… vulnerable. They opted to remain quiet so they could take in whatever information they could get.

He smiled finally looking to Aster, “I am happy to see it again.”

“It belongs with you,” Aster clasped his fingers together.

“I have been without it for so long, I feel it belongs to a monster that was lost a long time ago.” He cleared his throat, “You don’t know where you got this from?”

“It was a piece of me,” Aster shrugged, “but I guess it was a piece of you.” He rubbed his fingers together his expression pained, “Do I know you?”

Asgore was quiet, considerate, for a long while simply stroking his beard as his mind hopscotched along centuries worth of squares. It wasn’t the swiftest mode of travel but it was one that suited the jolly giant. “I am sorry Aster. I know that I have never seen another monster like you.”

“Oh,” Aster sealed his eyes tightly, “okay. Thank you.” He pressed his mouth tightly together, “Toriel can I go to my room, I don’t want to be here.”

Toriel blinked, “Just for a little while I suppose. It’s rude to our guest.”

“Sorry,” he apologized to Asgore before he quickly dismissed himself. Toriel sighed as she watched him leave.

“I hope I did not offend him,” Asgore started to rise from the table but Toriel shook her head.

 “I think he just had his hopes a little too high.” Toriel smiled sadly as her gaze lingered in the entryway.

“Does he really not know anything of himself? In my experiences with such things it does not last long or it is only a few memories that are stolen.”

Frisk shook his head, ‘Papyrus gave him the name. Sometimes he reacts to things like he recognizes them but he never seems to know why.’

“Most unfortunate,” he sighed. “Well, I have brought snacks, why don’t we enjoy them while they are fresh?”

Frisk was the first to happily scoop up a cinnamon apple scone while Asgore poured tea. Dad wasn’t nearly as good of a cook as mom but his tea time snacks had taken a wonderful turn towards delicious once he had human ingredients to work with. Their consistency was still scone like, kinda sticky and dry, but the cinnamon swirls and apple pieces were what they were after. Even Toriel thanked him for the one she was handed as she began to pour tea.

What felt like forever ago Alphys had asked them if they thought the two Dremmurrs would get together again. They’d answered with an optimistic yes but now that they’d seen how the two were together maybe it was for the best they didn’t. It  made moments like this, where they could sit together as a family, all the sweeter though. 

The pair had come a long way since when they first came to the surface where Asgore had to fish for even a hostile glare from her. Nowadays Asgore had a house key so he could drink whenever he did yard work while they were at school. Sometimes he’d leave fancy flower table runners like the lovely fall colored chrysanthemums that currently adorned the table. Toriel always scoffed but Frisk knew she appreciated the effort. Every so often they would catch her in the morning brushing her fingers softly against the petals with a fond look in her eyes.

Unfortunately, this round of flowers was just about done for. Even with Asgore’s magic gardening flowers could only last so long. A few petals littered the table casting aside the beauty of their colors to curl in on themselves and darken. There was always something so melancholy about a wilted flower.

“Did you get a summons as well?” Asgore asked after a sip of tea. The surface had many marvels including boss monster sized tea cups, though they did wonder if they were meant to be ironic soup bowls or something of the like.

“Yes, last weekend,” Toriel scraped a few crumbs off the table and onto her empty plate.

‘Summons?’ Those were never good.

The former rulers of the Underground nodded.

Suddenly the kitchen felt too big, the space between the chairs too far, ‘What is it this time?’

“It did not specify,” Toriel sighed, “just that we are needed next weekend, all of us.”

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Frisk signed hastily.

She averted her eyes a bit of shame written in them, “After last time I was just hoping they would change their minds.”

Last time, Frisk sat stubbornly far back in their chair, there wasn’t a last time. Everytime they were summoned it was a huge hassle where every last one of Frisk’s shortcomings was a direct insult to Toriel. They had stopped suggesting they be seperated but that didn’t mean the sentiment was no longer there. ‘I’m going to go check on Aster.’

They didn’t bother checking to see if it was okay before they pushed out their chair and started up the stairs. Once they made it to the top they sat on the step and buried their face in their hands, they were supposed to be done with the summons, and the meetings, and the peace talks. Monsters were here, they could live in the city, they could go shopping, sure it wasn’t perfect but they were getting somewhere.

So what wrench were they going to throw into the peace in the name of betterment?

No, they couldn’t be bothered with such things now. With a hefty rocking motion they rose to their feet before knocking on Aster’s door. “Aster? Are you-- you in here?”

“I’m fine,” he responded quietly as if his voice knew it didn’t want to actually reply.

When they pushed open the door the first thing they noticed were the curtains pinned open leaving the late afternoon sun to filter through the glass. They realized just how long Aster had been living with them when they couldn’t recall the last time the sun shone so warmly across the floor. As they looked around though they didn’t see Aster anywhere.

Frisk closed the curtains, “Don’t.” Came his weary voice. They looked down to see him lying on the floor fidgeting absentmindedly with his bunny’s ears. “I’m trying to get better,” he added when Frisk was looking for an answer.

‘By laying on the floor in a brightly lit room?’

“I thought if I could see the light that would mean I was better… but I got really dizzy… and haven’t gotten back up.”

Now that he mentioned it Frisk could tell the comforter was askew, he must have grabbed it before he fell. ‘Why didn’t you call for help?’

Aster shrugged.

Frisk pulled the curtains tight and sat on the floor beside him. ‘Mom said you had a nightmare… do you want to talk about it?’ He shook his head. ‘She also mentioned you figured out your bullets! Congrats! I know how hard you were trying!’ 

He dropped the rabbit atop his chest to cover his face with his hands, “They’re not right. They aren’t what they are supposed to be. They’re wrong. Just like everything else.”

‘I’m sorry, what do you mean?’

“I know him, Asgore, but I don’t, and he doesn’t know me, but I know that I know his laugh. I know his smile. I saw him and just… felt different! But I don’t know why,” he pressed his bunny up to his chest as his voice crackled unpleasantly in his throat. 

“I never know why. Why doesn’t he know me Frisk? Why can’t anyone tell me who I am? I’m trying,” a soft sob broke his tangent, “I’m trying to find the pieces but I can’t. I need something to stand on first, a sense of self like Sans said! But I don’t even know what I am…“

“I just… I saw him, and I felt different, I thought he was going to see me and hug me, and tell me how much he missed me. But he didn’t. He didn’t know me so I don’t know him.” He curled his hands into fists that he pressed against the base of his eyes as if he could stop the emotions from leaking out.

“Not knowing anything hurts worse than the sun does.” His form went slack as the white of his eyes pointed to the closed curtains.

Frisk took a breath, then another one, their heart felt far too tight in their chest: they had pushed him too far. Now he was set on answers, ‘But we know a lot already!’

It was obvious by the uncharacteristically cold expression they received that he didn’t believe them. They hoped that their smile warmed the room some, ‘We know for a fact that you were here before you were at your home. How else would you have had Asgore’s lighter?’

“I guess that’s true…” He sat up to better read Frisk’s hands.

‘And maybe we don’t know  _ exactly _ how you knew Asgore but we know you did!’

“Maybe?”

‘You’re good at math, a really fast learner, and you always want to help out however you can! Those  _ are  _ pieces Aster!’ Maybe they weren’t crisp clean edge pieces or even ones that you could immediately recognize where they went but eventually they were all going to meet to form a unique image. ‘You’re doing great Aster! Don’t worry so much about figuring out everything at once.’

“But you want me to know.”

Frisk nodded, ‘You’re right. We all want you to know but not if it stresses you out so much.’

He clasped his hands over where his stomach would be with a tight expression, “I want to know.”

‘And I have no doubt you will figure it out! Just maybe not all at once.’ Aster was quiet as he pondered their words. His hands unclenched from his stomach to wrap around the rabbit once more.

‘Will you show me your bullets?’

The whites of his eyes shot over to them, “I’ve… never done it on purpose.”

‘Well… Why don’t you try?’

For a moment they were convinced Aster was going to deny the request because he sat there so utterly still he seemed to be a discarded doll. Just before Frisk could give up by changing the subject he held his hands in front of him and shut his big black eyes. The hair on Frisk’s arms stood on end as they felt the pull of magic in the air before a drippy black bullet conjured itself between his hands.

Their eyes went wide as they recognized the femur shape from the only monsters they knew that fought with bones. It was another piece of the puzzle, ‘It looks like Sans and Papyrus’s!’

“Theirs aren’t so… gooey.”

‘No but they aren’t quite gooey themselves,’ Frisk signed in good humor hoping it didn’t read as an insult at all. ‘Why don’t we see if they’ll come over to practice soon?’

A smile grew bright over his minimalistic features, “I can show them!”

‘I bet they’ll be super impressed! And we’ll keep it a secret so they won’t even know until you show them!’

“Yes!” The bullet dispersed leaving behind a few heavy drops of a paint like black substance.

‘But for now we should go talk to Asgore while he’s over here, maybe we can figure--’ They were doing it again. ‘You’ll have to see how big his teacups are! Their the size of my face!’

Aster gasped, “That’s so big!”

They would get their answers in time. For now they had to be satisfied with each and every piece that made up the inquisitive, silly, steadfast monster in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the next chapter we are entering a section that has me a bit nervous so we will see how that works ^^’ Anyways I hope you enjoyed and I will see you in two weeks!


	10. The Taste Of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne tags along with Sans and Papyrus to Aster’s latest magic lesson where everyone ends up surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for continuing to comment and kudos! We’re at chapter 10! I’d love to say “we’re a third of the way there” or something but I thought this was going to be seventeen chapters originally. So I don’t know guys! Just buckle in and we’ll get to our destination sometime ^^’

The house was in an uproar as it tended to be when their latest visitors arrived. Sans and Papyrus had come over for another magic lesson with Aster but Undyne had somehow managed to invite herself over. Her security guard jacket rolled lazily off her shoulder unable to keep up with the wide gestures her stories seemingly always demanded. 

Frisk had taken this as an ideal opportunity to interrogate Undyne for any information about the phone. Alphys had stopped texting them entirely yesterday evening and they didn’t know why. The reaction from Undyne hadn’t been what she anticipated, her earfins drooped subtly and her good eye grew a bit distant, “I don’t know either. She’s been really hush hush about it.”

They decided not to press what seemed to be a sore subject.

Now they were all just enjoying a meal together and politely pushing the sloppy mushy mystery vegetable Undyne had brought to the side. Mom’s chicken alfredo however was being heaped up by the fork full then slurped until gone, at least until Toriel noticed and asked Frisk to use their manners. They couldn’t decide what their favorite food was but there was no competition that it came from Toriel’s kitchen.

One of Aster’s hands was clutched over the middle part of his form and the other was wrapped tightly around the bars of Frisk’s chair. Despite how nervous he seemed to be around Undyne it appeared Papyrus and him were the only ones actively following her enthusiastic story. Until she hammered her hands against the table and sent her fork into the ceiling, then everyone watched.

“Aw man,” Undyne grimaced, “sorry Toriel I’ll get it.” 

For once Undyne was too slow as the hand that had been gripping Frisk’s chair floated up to the ceiling to retrieve the fork. “Oh wow! What kinda magic is that?!” 

Aster flinched as her sharp expression was turned to him, “It’s just me.”

“Nah,” Undyne folded her arms, “that’s magic.” Without any provoking her eye lit up, “How cool would it be if you had like a hundred of them?”

“I have two.”

“Just think of the possibilities,” her ever widening smile twtched downward for a moment complimented by a nibble of her lip. “Just the two?” Aster shifted in his seat leaning a bit on Frisk before he nodded so softly it was almost unnoticeable. “Huh.” She folded her arms then tilted her head to the side before finally throwing herself back into her chair, much to the grievance of the floor tiles.

Sans’s eyelights made a pass between Undyne and Aster before circling around the table, “Whelp, glad you o _ fish _ ially met Aster Undyne.”

“Sans don’t,” Papyrus sighed.

Undyne scoffed her agreement, “Yeah dude. It’s really not funny.”

“I hope its’  _ fin _ a good first impression,” Toriel chimed in.

“Not you too Lady Toriel!” Papyrus bemoaned breaking his perfect posture to slouch against the back of his chair.

‘No need to  _ flounder _ ,’ Frisk signed, their grin stretched as far as they could muster.

Papyrus rose abruptly to his feet receiving a chuckle from the ensemble. 

“Well before things  _ swim _ anymore out of control,” Toriel blotted her muzzle with her napkin, “why don’t you all start on the magic lesson for Aster?” Aster’s face lit up as Toriel winked at him, “I’ll take care of dishes.”

“Are you sure you do not require assistance?” Papyrus asked as he pushed his chair in.

“No, I will be quite alright Papyrus, but thank you for offering.”

“Come on, lets go,” Aster chimed grabbing Papyrus’s hands in his.

“You’re eager…” Undyne smiled dangerously, “I like it!”

Frisk double checked with Toriel that she didn’t need any assistance before they followed everyone outside. 

A chill snagged their slightly exposed ankles before it ran all the way up their leg to nip at the scruff of their neck. There was an immediate about face to grab a coat before returning outside. Fog escaped them with every breath, snow was in the forecast for the weekend and they wouldn’t be surprised if it started before then. The nerveless skeleton brothers didn’t seem bothered in the least but the hot blooded Undyne had pulled a hoodie out of her inventory to go under her jacket.

“Alright Aster hold your hands out,” Papyrus held his hands out just as he usually did and Aster quickly put the back of his hands against them. “Now close your eyes and--” A black bone bullet dripped above their hands, Aster’s smile looked almost painful with how wide it was, the whites of his eyes were huge as he waited for Papyrus’s reaction.

Which was much calmer than Frisk had expected. 

His sockets moved up and down the femur with a fixed expression, he looked back to Sans for a split second before returning to Aster, “Wowie! I knew you were going to have something special but I didn’t think it would be quite so cool!”

“It’s cool?” He signed, the bullet flickered as he failed to concentrate on it.

“Very cool!” Papyrus agreed.

“What the heck?! I’ve never seen a black bullet before,” Undyne chuckled as she crossed over to them, “That’s friggin’ sweet! What does it do?”

“Do?” Aster inquired.

“Yeah! Like Paps’s baby blue bullets they--”

“Cyan.” Papyrus corrected.

“Er um, okay, like Paps’s cyan bullets only hurt if you’re moving.”

“Which you almost always are,” Papyrus jeered.

“What can I say I get excited!?” Undyne defended with her chest puffed out.

“You forget.”

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Ngaaaah!” She wrapped her arm around Papyrus’s neck and noogied the top of his skull, “You wanna fight about it?”

“Nyeh!” He pushed himself out of her grip, “Actually that sounds like a great idea! We can show Aster what bullets can do!”

“And how fun sparring is!” She punched the air, “Yeah! I’m into it!”

Aster tapped his fingertips together, “You guys are going to fight?” 

“Yes but it is just for fun!” Papyrus assured him.

‘O.K,’ he signed with a cautious look over to Sans. ‘But no one is going to get hurt.’

“Of course not! We are professionals,” Papyrus posed dramatically.

Undyne elbowed him before she sprinted to the other side of the yard, “I get to start!” 

“No fair!” Papyrus stomped.

She laughed triumphantly from the other side of the yard, “Hey Sans want some exercise for a change?”

“Now that you mention it,” he made a display of stretching his arms then grabbing his leg like a runner, “I’m due for a nap,” he smiled with half the effort as usual. “You guys have fun though.” With that he tucked his chin to his collarbone and folded his arms which made him look more like a marshmallow than usual.

As soon as his lack of participation was recorded a blue spear blurred through the air nearly lost on the gray sky. Immediately Aster stepped in front of Sans with a pure protective magic radiating from him. “Don’t move,” he urged.

Sans raised a brow scrutinizing Aster’s back, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Papyrus had successfully deflected the spear with a single bone before throwing it like her own weapon to her. It started off simple enough: the pair exchanging single bullets as fast as they could while dodging or deflecting. Eventually the patterns grew more and more complex.

Subtle twitches in Frisk’s legs told them no matter how much time had passed they were still changed forever by the Underground. Their narrow eyes were trained like a tactician moving just enough to plot the way they would dodge out of the way. A part of their soul throbbed desperately wanting the taste of excitement you could only get from perfectly dodging a combination attack but they calmed it. That was behind them now.

Aster’s flinching subsided as he turned to his own bullets, summoning a large black bone, then a smaller, and a smaller one that all seemed to drip out of existence like hair dye down the drain. Magic was innate in monsters, an expression of themselves, and he was more than ready to start figuring himself out.

Making full use of his lengthy legs Papyrus slipped under a light blue blur before turning in a perfect circle to block the golden spear behind him. Undyne actually seemed to be wearing down from exertion where as her opponent still had plenty of energy managing to retaliate with a sea of bones in her direction that crested high in the air before crashing down. 

They all shattered at last moment as arrows pierced through each bullet as if they were made of dry sand. She wiped the sweat from her brow and discarded her jacket which fell as if it was lined with lead. With a confident grin she rolled her shoulder then lunged from side to side to loosen her legs, “You ready to go for real?”

“Finally,” Papyrus grinned.

The turn based system was entirely abolished as the pair matched each other bullet for bullet filling the air with streaks of color and flashes of light. There wasn’t a second available to think as cyan bullets traveled along the ground in hopes of snagging Undyne’s pivoting feet. Gold cut closer and closer to Papyrus until Frisk found themselves flinching in anticipation for an impact that never came. Magic was so thick in the air it tickled Frisk’s tongue like a fizzy candy.

 Aster held his hands out in front of him and concentrated. His form stretched to what Frisk assumed was his full height as he focused intently on the spot just past his hands with his eyes sealed shut.

Black blotted along his hands as if painted with a sponge, they grew darker as the shadow spread further and further down each finger. ‘Aster?’ Frisk cautioned but the monster was lost in his focus. It had to be a trick of the light but the world around him seemed to grow darker as black tendrils slithered forth from his body like snakes dripping to the ground in their efforts to swallow the darkened hands.

“Aster,” their voice cracked as they tried to get his attention.

The slithering tentacles conjoined casing the hands in the same gelatinous material as his body. As they watched frozen to their spot white began to poke through the thick dripping ooze stretching out further and further until off white skeletal fingers replaced his clawed hands with skeletal fingers.

That wasn’t all.

In front of Aster a dark sphere was forming that stung with a magic Frisk hadn’t seen in a very long time. They ran to Sans and shook him from his slumber, “Sans, Aster--” The magic in the air dispersed having conjured a terrifying draconic skull with dark ooze draining profusely from its’ jaws and eye sockets.

As terrifying as Sans’s blasters were they had nothing on the cruel, sharp, features of this one.

Sans not only sat up but immediately rose to his feet sockets vacant as he took in the trespassing magic. Papyrus froze just barely managing to block the golden bullet that flipped in front of him, his jaw slightly agape as he fixated on the bullet. Undyne took a moment to piece together why her sparring partner had seemingly given up but seemed curious of the new magic. Aster was--

Absolutely elated.

“You’re back!” He smiled widely rubbing affectionately along the skull’s horns not caring for the goo that stuck to him as he did. The blaster’s eyelights shrunk into tiny little slits eyeing the monsters approaching it with the fear of a cornered beast. Papyrus put his hands up to caution it but Sans approached unafraid running his fingertips along any exposed white portions.

_ This is impossible, _ Frisk thought as they took in the long slender fangs and thick ridged horns. Only Sans had blasters. They were unique to him and him alone. They were just another mystery of Sans.

“Why are you staring like that?” Aster furrowed his brows in frustration. “It’s not scary,” he stated resolutely as they continued to gawk. “It’s not.”

“I think it’s pretty awesome,” Undyne stated fairly quiet for her, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Nope never,” Papyrus contributed still awestruck until he turned to the caster. His expression hardened suddenly, “What happened to your hands Aster?”

Aster blinked turning his attention down to his hands then to his newly established arms,”What do you mean?”

“They’re skeletal,” Undyne pointed out bluntly.

“They’ve always looked like this,” Aster smiled but began to rub at what appeared to be his arms as if they were filthy.

“No… they…” Papyrus looked at his own hands. “Sans?”

Sans let out a tired sigh, “Lets talk inside.”

“Sans?” Papyrus asked but the shorter skeleton was already making their way into the house. With a hot tuft of air Papyrus stubbornly followed.

“This thing is super cool,” Undyne grinned knocking her knuckles lightly against the base of the blaster’s socket. Her earfins jerked upward when it glared at her. Once the door swung shut Undyne’s yellow eyes turned sharply to Frisk, “Follow them.”

‘What?’

“Those two keep all these secrets. Whatever this is made Sans show his hand for once. Someone needs to make sure they're okay but Sans will clam up tighter than a… well errr-- clam,” her voice trailed off as if it was a question but only briefly, “if I go fu hu hu!” She wrapped an arm around Aster whose black eyes grew wide at the sudden contact. “Besides I got some questions for this goopy dork!”

Aster tried to pull away but there was no escaping Undyne. Frisk nodded, ‘I’ll be right back Aster.’

They’d expected to step into a silent house as the brothers didn’t bother talking to each other but they were greeted by Sans’s voice. “Paps, I already know where this is going, can we drop it?” Sans’s body gave up on standing upright to become one with the couch, not by sitting atop it or even flopping amongst the cushions he just added his own form to the upholstery.

“You want to just leave someone important to us to suffer? How could you?” Papyrus folded his arms, “You are a friendly skeleton I know you don’t want to do that!”

Sans’s eyelights were soft around the edges before he shut his sockets, “He ain’t sufferin’.”

“Sans! He wants answers!” Papyrus strode over to the window and peeled back the curtain to watch Aster. From where Frisk stood they could see the blaster fire a pillar of darkness into the ground. Undyne was positively pumped, her excited yell managing to reach into the house barely muffled. 

Between the newly summoned crater and the black puddles caused from the blaster Asgore was going to cry when he saw the yard next.

None of that mattered right now though: “Y-you guys know him?!” Frisk’s heart attempted to leap through their throat in an expression of joy, “Why… why didn’t, didn’t, you say anything?”

Frisk had never seen their sockets so harsh which made it was obvious they hadn’t even heard them come inside. Immediately they corrected the sternness of their sockets both falling into default, “It’s nothing kid.”

“If it is nothing then surely you are alright sharing,” Toriel stepped into the room, wiping her paws in a purple towel.

Sans sighed pressing the back of his head against the couch. Papyrus clamped his teeth and fidgeted with the end of his sleeve, “We don’t…  _ know _ him persay.” 

“Or at all.” Sans supplied.

“Or very much anything at all… But Sans that was a blaster! Just like,” he clamped his teeth briefly just barely glancing at Toriel, “that plus the marks on his face, all of this has to mean something! They have to be the owner of the scarf… I’m certain of it…” His expression pinched as if pained as he added, “I can feel it in my bones.”

Sans and Frisk exchanged a concerned glance at the pun wondering if he didn’t notice it or just refused to acknowledge it. “Bro, all we need to do is give them false hope.”

“It’s not false hope!” Papyrus stomped, “We have a picture!”

“Of a monster that looks nothing like him,” Sans unfused himself from the couch to rest his elbows on his knees. “I know that findin’ that monster means a lot to ya… And I’m not going to go down the whole ‘we forgot for a good reason’ spiel cause it ain’t never worked before, but Paps.”

Everything about Sans read tired as if the early evening hours they occupied were those blurred between morning and night, “He isn’t that monster. He doesn’t recognize us. He didn’t miss us. He wasn’t lookin’ for us. If Aster  _ is  _ the one you've been lookin’ for do you think it's really fair to force memories you don’t even remember onto him when he’s so confused?”

Papyrus’s hand tugged hard at the sleeve in its’ grip as he pressed his forehead against the window’s glass, “I hate it when you are right brother.”

“I do too Paps. I do too,” His ribs inflated but no breath escaped.

Frisk tugged on the end of Papyrus’s shirt, ‘What picture?’

He ruined his grandiose smile with a soft sad one that didn’t belong before he ruffled the hair on the top of their head before immediately smoothing it out. “Some other time Human Frisk.”

Frisk grabbed his hand, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am fine… More than fine even! I am Great! I do not wallow around in the misty past where the fog is too dense to see! No! I move forward like the great monster that I am!” He laughed but it hardly seemed to be up to his own standards. “Come Sans! We promised our friend Aster a magic lesson!”

“ _ Aster  _ a quick nap,” Sans nestled back into the couch. 

Papyrus was about to stomp out his resentment when Toriel put a hand on his shoulder, “I would be more than happy to watch.”

It took him a moment to regain his usual level of Papyrus-ness before he agreed just before the pair slipped out the door Toriel’s eyes focused on Frisk before darting over to Sans. Everyone knew how hard it was to get the pair to talk, even if they really needed it. 

They crawled up on the couch beside Sans staring out the window for a while before they dared to look at him. Approaching Sans with anything was a struggle, he always had one foot out the door when it came to personal conversation, not that Papyrus was any better, it was just more obvious with Sans. Through countless resets and restarts and along good runs or bad ones there was one thing remained certain: Sans didn’t talk about himself if it could be avoided. 

Still, on the surface he’d learned to open up more… maybe if they worded it just right: “You’ve…  _ never _ known Aster before right?”

Without opening his eyes he muttered, “Only in hallucinations and nightmares.” Frisk’s eyes opened wide as they scrutinized the skeleton. That wasn’t a good sign at all considering-- “Sorry. That was in bad humor. Which is kinda the only humor I have. Nah kid, I don’t know Aster at all.”

There was something there… Frisk might not always know what Sans was thinking but they knew how to recognize his half lies. ‘Are you okay?’

Not too long ago Sans would have immediately denounced the question with a joke but now he contemplated it for a while. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

‘Do you want to change the subject?’

“Yeah.”

‘Okay.’ So they did, they talked about anything but the ache in Frisk’s soul that was still so desperate for answers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skully makes an entrance!
> 
> This chapter was such a hassle to write and I’m still convinced I didn’t write it. I was all prepared when I opened this on Monday to write a “sorry this is probably going to be late” post but it was almost done? Somehow it got written ^^’
> 
> As much of a drag as this one felt to write I am super pumped for the next one! I hope you all will enjoy it! Thanks for the continued support!


	11. Spirited Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Toriel head out to the summons they received but things don’t go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos and comment last week ^^

Frisk stood with their head turned to the ceiling, their fists at their hips, and imagined their outfit of defiance flowing in the breezeless house air. “Frisk,” Toriel sighed stepping towards them, “you know I’m more than willing to let you express yourself but this summons is not the correct place.” Their shoulders dropped in their padded navy blue suit jacket making the bottom of the jacket press against the purple scalloped skirt. “Please?”

‘Yes mom,’ they signed in disappointment before returning to their room. Who cares what a bunch of stuffy old guys thought? Sure they were dressing like that with the intention of getting a rise out of the law officials, they couldn’t even remember the last time they’d seen this skirt, but that was beside the point. 

They opened their closet door to turn the mirror towards themself studying the outfit intently. In their reflection they caught a dark shadow in the corner of their room, quick as they ever were they turned to face the trespasser, ‘Aster! Get out!’

Aster curled his hands to his chest while his shoulders pinned themselves to his jaw, ‘You were upset I--’ The white of his eyes pointed up to them then down to his hands, ‘I’ll leave.’ He turned to the door giving a worried glance back before shutting it behind him.

Frisk shut the closet door, it wasn’t that they were mad at Aster for being in their room they just… didn’t like anyone to see them changing clothes. They discarded the skirt, if it was going to snow a suit would be more comfortable. They grabbed the hot pink button down shirt off the rack and the navy blue pants that matched what they were already wearing. Once fully clothed they checked themself in the mirror again before turning out of their room. 

Rright outside the door Aster sat fidgeting with his long,boney, spindly, fingers. ‘Are you better now?’ He signed sluggishly.

‘Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.’

‘Good.’

After a clumsy awkward beat where neither of them bothered to speak Frisk broke the silence: ‘I need to get going.’

Aster’s eyes shot up to them panicked as he pleaded once more: ‘But it's’ Saturday.’

‘I know,’ they pat the top of his head, ‘but we don’t have a choice in the matter.’

He rested his head against the wall, his hands resting on his mid-section, “How long are you going to be gone?”

‘Until dark.’

“That’s a long time,” he whimpered.

‘Hey, it’s supposed to snow today!’ Frisk smiled, ‘and if it snows a lot we can go play in it all day tomorrow!’

“What’s snow?”

‘A surprise! If you watch the windows today you’ll get to see it!’ Frisk held their hands out and helped Aster off the ground, ‘Do you want help going down the stairs?’

He shook his head defiant but maintained a death grip on the rail as they descended. Toriel smiled up from the base of the stairs,“I think that  _ suits _ you.” Her own clothes spoke of professionalism: a long black dress with silver flowers made of sequins along the side, and a purple shrug with the Delta Rune proudly stitched over her heart.

‘I’m not the only one who knows how to  _ dress _ for success,’ Frisk winked.

“Aster dear, are you going to be alright? I’m sorry that no one could come over,” her eyes held a genuine sincerity to them as she looked him over.

“It’s no different than normal,” he shrugged but jerked away as he caught his arms in his peripheral. He still wasn’t used to them being a permanent feature and, honestly, neither was Frisk. 

There was something almost unsettling about how quickly he’d become… different. Being a fast learner was one thing but at least the changes weren’t physical. His hands were so much scratchier now decorated with so many tiny nicks and scratches that wrote a story in a language Frisk couldn’t read. 

“Can I have the chore list?” Aster held his hands out expectantly.

“I’m sorry I forgot to make one,” his fingers curled in on themselves. “Oh but it’s Saturday! You don’t want to do any boring old chores!” She smiled which made relax his shoulders a bit, “Consider it a free day!”

“Free day?”

“Do whatever you want to dear and surprise us when we get home,” she put her fists on her hips quickly, “just don’t use the oven.”

“Oh I won’t,” he defended quickly before muttering quietly to himself: “free day.”

“We’ll be back sooner than you think,” she winked before heading towards the door, “goodbye Aster.”

“Bye Toriel, bye Frisk,” he waved sadly.

Frisk threw their arms around him, “We’ll be back soon!”

“Then we’ll play in the snow,” Aster smiled patting the top of their head.

After locking the door behind them they were surprised to see Toriel standing still. They stepped out from behind her to see Sans with his hands in his pockets, staring at nothing with vacant sockets. “Sans?” She called. “Sans!”

His eyelights flicked on, he blinked hard, then shook his head, “Hey Tor.”

“You weren’t sleepwalking again were you?”

Sans seemed piqued with curiosity for a moment before he smiled, “Nah, just got lost in thought is all.” Silence fell between the three of them like an iron press. Sans was in one of  _ those _ moods the kind that even made mom a bit uneasy. “Mind if I steal the kid for a moment?”

Toriel glanced down to Frisk, “If you can be brief, we need to get going.”

“Got a summons to City Hall right?” When they seemed surprised he shrugged, “Only reason both of ya would be dressed so formally.” He strolled over to them, “What if we met ya halfway there?”

‘Sans you aren’t supposed to--’

“See ya at Grillby’s.” With that Frisk suddenly felt lighter as magic built inside them, it was as if their toes lifted off the ground, before their stomach lurched. They shut their eyes and clung desperately to their kidnapper praying not to catch a glimpse of the Realm Between. Lead hung heavy over them, crushing all of the air from their lungs, their heart panicked, throbbing with nervous energy that threatened to split them apart. A steeled grunt escaped them before the sensation was less than a memory.

Cement gripped their dress shoes first before they felt their whole body supported by it. All of the strangeness they’d felt faded away until it seemed like they had simply taken a few steps from Toriel’s to here.‘Sans,’ they shoved him away, ‘you aren’t supposed to--’

A small flip over notebook was displayed to them, “Ten out of ten, Papyrus approved for safe shortcuts to Grillby’s.”

They double checked the authenticity of the smiling skeleton stamp, ‘Still! You probably scared mom half to death!’

Sans sighed, “I know. Here.” He pulled out his phone then tsked, “Battery’s dead can I see yours?” It was Frisk’s turn to sigh, his phone was almost always dead, they grabbed theirs from their pocket. After some finagling with the camera to catch the pair of them and the sign outside of Grillby’s he snapped a pic and sent it to Toriel. “There. All safe and sound.”

‘You still shouldn’t have done that,’ they huffed.

“I know,” he ran his hand over his skull, “I just… really needed to talk to ya.”

Sans  _ never _ wanted to talk but something in the pained whince of his sockets told them it was actually important, ‘What’s--’

“Inside,” he hitched his thumb to the door, “I’m starvin’ and it’s hard to bear my soul normally let alone on an empty stomach.”

‘You don’t have a stomach.’ Sans chuckled his agreeance.

On the outside Grilby’s looked almost exactly the same, but on the inside? They were met with an unseasonable warmth that settled over them like the promise of spring. The tables glistened with well maintained gloss coats, floorboards shown up to them as if they were brand new, the smell of food was savory filling the nose and mouth in well fell swoop, and behind the bar was an elaborate rack filled with glasses that looked as precious as crystals. Grillby’s was alive and well on the Surface serving monsters as well as humans. 

It was nice to see, even if the bartender wasn’t one of their favorite monsters. Luckily it seemed Sans wasn’t interested in inhabiting his usual barstool. They slid into the cushiony booth on opposite sides of the table. Sans immediately propped the boniest part of his elbows against the table in a complete disregard for table manners. His sockets were sealed as he thought over his words. 

They didn’t want to rush Sans and risk changing his mind but they couldn’t help but squirm in their seat. Anytime it was just the pair of them at a restaurant they saw a different side of their skeleton friend. Ominous warnings, secret messages, simple stories that seemed pointless at the time: Frisk had experienced all of them over and over again. They knew there was nothing they could expect so they just waited, rubbing their knees together as a means of soothing their urge to fidget. 

With all the enthusiasm of a three toed sloth at naptime Sans reached into his pocket to pull out a scrap of paper that he left in the center of the table. Frisk waited only a beat in anticipation of it being passed to them before recognizing they had to get it themselves.

It was an image of three monsters smiling with the words ‘Don’t Forget’ scribbled sloppily in the bottom right hand corner. Papyrus’s effortless smile radiated from the picture with the force of the monster himself, next to him, being partially used as an armrest, was someone with a striking resemblance to Sans. There was a softness in the sockets Frisk wasn’t accustomed to, a warmness in the lights, a genuine nature to that smile, and they didn’t carry any weight in their shoulders. This was Sans from before everything, before Flowey, before them, before the Surface, he looked so happy.

Frisk was surprised they had to wipe their eyes they just hadn’t seen their  _ pun _ cle like that before. On the other side of the table a yawn started that was interrupted by speech: “Yeah Paps was a pretty cute kid.”

They were going to interject that their tight smile was for him when their eyes fell to the third monster in the photograph. “Who is this?” Their voice was quieter than usual amongst the acoustics of the bar. 

Standing behind them with a soft, almost shy, smile was another skeleton dressed in a black suit with a red scarf. Two cracks cut through their skull one up from the right the other down from the left. Whoever they were had skeletal hands with holes in the center placed atop each boys’ shoulder in a relaxed but comfortable grip.

“Don’t know.” Came the blunt response.

‘What do you mean ‘don’t know’?’ They set the photo down to stare accusingly across the table.

“Never seen ‘em in my life, neither has Paps, we got no idea where or when that picture was taken,” he tapped his finger atop the corner of the image. 

With a teasing smile they pointed to the sloppily written ‘DON’T FORGET’ in the corner, ‘Not very good at following instructions are you?’

“Like you have to ask!” He grinned proudly. Frustratingly it seemed like that was it, the end of the conversation, but Frisk wasn’t going to let it drop so easily. 

Although their curiosity temporarily froze as the fiery bartender quietly placed a large order of fries between them, a ketchup bottle, and a few more napkins than necessary. After a hard look to Sans and a half bow to Frisk Grillby returned to the counter. 

Sans sighed, “He wanted to talk to ya too.” With one fist tucked under his chin he grabbed a handful of fries not bothering with the ketchup for a change. Slowly, the fries he held closest to his mouth began to disappear or flake away onto his coat. 

_ What does Grillby want with me? _ Frisk thought stealing a fry from the plate. They shook their head and slammed the fryless hand onto the table, ‘We’re not changing subjects! What did you want to tell me about this picture?’

The rest of the fries in his boeny grip were dropped to the table without even an attempt to land on the plate, “Cause ‘uh my bros outbreak earlier this week. Thought it would be better to hear from me.”

That was rich, they folded their arms, talking to Sans was as useful as asking a horse on a merry go round for directions. Papyrus at least seemed like he wanted to talk about this instead of jumping out the nearest window. Their eyes fell down to the picture again, ‘What about the scarf?’ Sans raised a boney brow, ‘The scarf. Papyrus mentioned that too.’

With that simple statement Sans’s eyes focused on something so far away it hurt to even imagine where they had landed. The eyelights dimmed lower and lower until they were swallowed by the darkness of his sockets. Sans took a deep breath, “He… Paps, found that scarf in our home along with a few other things we just couldn’t explain. I was content to say they belonged to the previous owner but my bro ain’t a ‘leave it as it is’ type of monster.”

He shook his head sadly, “After we got in a bit of a skirmish Paps threw the scarf around his neck and went out and knocked on every home in Snowdin… In some cases multiple times cause ‘uh that one weirdo with the knocking thing.”

This was serious but Frisk couldn’t help but smirk as that just seemed so much like Papyrus! If there was something to get done he wouldn’t rest until it was completed.

“He asked everyone if they had any idea who that scarf belonged to but no one knew.” Sans scraped the discarded fries onto the floor, “But that didn’t stop someone as cool as him. He kept tryin’, and tryin’, and tryin’ to find some monster from a picture that neither of us remembered. Goin’ as far as to check out a hotel in the Capital while he checked on the houses there.”

“Finally he got the idea to ask the Dogs, Paps was never much of a fan of dogs so it was sort of his last resort,” Sans gestured aimlessly. “And they knew the smell right away…” His eyelights seemed to cast an echo inside his sockets pulsing with some words he had not yet spoken, “They told him it smelled just like him.”

Frisk could see the hurt in Papyrus’s face, knew exactly the way his shoulders folded, the way he held his sockets in a smile as he gave his thanks. It was very subtle but they could feel the hurt in Sans’s magic too as he recounted the event.

“From all of his efforts he got nothin’.” The world lunged its’ weight atop him as if the progress he’d made the last several months was gone, “Paps came home, laid across the couch, and, for the only time as long as I’ve known him, gave up.”

‘That’s not like him at all why--’

“More than the scent was gone by then. Whatever feeling had charged through him when he saw that picture was gone too…” 

His voice grew soft as he added, “If the whole universe forgot about, whoever it was, what was the point in tiny insignificant us tryin’ to figure it out?”

Frisk stared at the plate of fries as if they moved whenever they looked away. He said  _ us _ . What was Sans doing while Papyrus was out searching? Surely if he really didn’t want his brother pursuing the mystery monster he could have stopped it. They wanted to ask so badly but they knew that question would result in a fleet footed dodge.

“So Paps and I rounded up all the stuff we couldn’t explain then he dumped it in Waterfall with all the other junk.” Sans fidgeted a fry between his fingers for a bit before eating it. “Good bye and good riddance, last time we ever fought about that… Until the other day.”

‘Papyrus thinks Aster is the monster in the picture?’

“Nah,” Sans rested his head against the back of the booth, “he just wishes it was.”

He rose from the booth, his hand planted firmly on the table as he stood in the aisle, “I’m not gonna see my bro hurt like that again.” He shot a chilling glare to Frisk, “Promise me kid that this glitch you brought home ain’t gonna result in me wakin’ up on a lumpy fifth hand mattress in Snowdin.”

They were taken aback as those eyelights turned daggers pointed directly at their fragile heart. ‘I promised I wouldn’t.’

Sans grabbed a handful of fries, “Sorry this whole thing probably comes off as a sur _ fries _ .”

‘Don’t.’

The fries were stowed away in his pocket without so much as another word. That was it, he was going to leave his little story at that, but a question burned in their mind to strongly for them to avoid asking: ‘Did you try looking for the monster in the picture?’

That caught him off guard, he froze, his permanent smile foreign against his unfocused sockets. Just as it seemed he remembered how to make words Grillby came to retrieve the empty plate and Sans was gone.

_ Miss _

With all of the dramatic flair of a two year old Frisk dropped their forehead down to the table letting their arms lay slack. What did any of that mean? Obviously Sans was afraid Papyrus was projecting his lost feelings of the mystery skeleton on Aster and that it was going to get him hurt again. 

Blindly they fumbled around for the picture that still rest atop the table until they could bring it under the table. They really were a happy little family: Sans, Papyrus, and whoever they were. Why did they forget him? What did he do? Who was he?

They changed their grip on the photo making the other skeleton’s hands visible. The defined circles, long thin fingers, they certainly looked like Aster’s new ones. Quickly they sat up properly as they recalled Sans had called him a glitch. That was an oddly specific word to use. They were supposed to promise that the glitch wouldn’t send him back to Snowdin. 

Sans was a good judge of character did he really think Aster was bad?

“...Frisk?”

Startled they turned to see the living flame standing beside them, for a monster with a definitive glow he sure was good at sneaking up on them. Once Grillby recognized he had their attention he continued: “Toriel is waiting.”

‘Thanks,’ they signed never sure if he understood or not before they started towards the door.

“Frisk…?” Grillby called his flicker of a voice just barely loud enough to be heard across the minimal distance. There really wasn’t room in their head for anymore heavy conversations, luckily the bartender was only good for a few words at most: “Sans means well… Please forgive him.”

Did they seem like they were angry with Sans? They certainly weren’t anymore than most would be when the skeleton started talking in half truths. ‘Don’t worry I know he means well.’ Now that they thought about it they knew Sans and Grillby were close but they had no idea what the actual connection was.

Grillby sparked with what Frisk guessed was relief but they really had no idea how to read him. “One more thing?” His glasses pointed down to the floor before they steadied at Frisk’s eyes, ‘I am very grateful for everything you have done on the Surface. Thank you.’

So he did know sign but it was really hard to read as his fingers tended to blur together whenever they got too close. Before Frisk could inquire what he meant the bartender turned back to take the order of a doting couple. 

As they left the bar they couldn’t help but recognize today had been odd for reasons they hadn’t anticipated. If this was how the start of the day went how was the meeting going to go? They shook their head trying to pull their mindset into the positive as they crawled into Toriel’s SUV.

They weren’t surprised to see her fuming: “You’re alright, aren't you?” Her fiery aura flickered to a simmer as she waited for an answer.

‘Yes I am alright,’ Frisk confirmed as they fastened their seatbelt.

“Good,” she sighed in relief as her anger returned. “Who on Earth taught that boy such poor manners? I cannot believe the audacity he has just spiriting you away like that!” She pulled out of Grillby’s lot towards the inner city. “I am going to have to have a serious chat with him when we get back home.”

Frisk looked down at the picture, she wasn’t the only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans is an interesting character, obviously or he wouldn’t be the lead of so many fics, but boy he can be frustrating to deal with. 
> 
> Originally this was going to be the next chapter after this but placing it here I got to fix a lot of problems I had with the next chapter... So that’s a plus!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	12. Free Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster is left home alone and must find something unexpected to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many new/returning readers since the last update! Welcome! I thought i’d Take a moment to reiterate that this fic updates every other week for everyone. So many comments and kudos guys thank you so much!!!

Aster stared up at the ceiling from the living room floor trying to muster the motivation to climb the stairs to his room. Was it really that bad to fall asleep on the floor? He was supposed to surprise them and that would certainly be different.

Today was a free day which apparently meant he needed to do something unexpected before Toriel and Frisk got home. With a grimace he curled in on himself clutching his hands to the middle of his blackened form. A pain had settled in there a while ago. It had been fine at first just a little nervous, like Frisk had said, but it was constant now and it hurt in a way he was unfamiliar with.

His shoulders, that he now had, flopped flat against the floor, sleep took the pain away but he needed to accomplish a task first. Biting down as hard as he could, he sat up curling tightly as he could still unaccustomed to using his arms to assist. He pried his fingers off of his midsection to flex them gently.

The arms and shoulders he didn’t care for as they prevented his hands from moving freely as they once had. It made tasks that used to be simple much more difficult as now they required him to move all the way to what he needed. The hands though, he liked them a lot. They looked a lot like Sans and Papyrus’s and if he was even a little bit like them then he had to be good, he just had to be.

Bracing himself against the coffee table he clumsily managed to get off the floor. Something about his form just felt wrong now. No longer did it bend wherever, or however he wanted, he couldn’t change his height when he felt like it, and he had no idea why this was. Maybe it was part of the nervous pains or maybe more than just his hands and arms had changed.

For a long time he just stared at his hands, his wrists, pondering the oddness of them. In his time on the Surface he hadn’t seen anyone else just look so different. There were days where Frisk did things to their hair that baffled him but overtime it always reverted to the fluffy mess that was fun to pat.

Was he… weird? Of course he was but he didn’t like to think about it, in fact, why was he thinking about it? He needed to make something so he could go to sleep!

He began to pick his way through the fabric scraps in Toriel’s basket hoping to catch some inspiration. How nice would it be if he made something that really made them smile? 

Unfortunately, the scraps he was finding weren’t particularly helpful. They were all in mismatched odd shapes that didn’t really belong together. There was a pretty cyan blue that he paired with a pumpkin orange, a plum swatch with silver and gold swirls, and a patchy blue one with yellow flowers. Lastly, he pulled out a long piece of black fabric, that had the same texture as his bunny, and rested it atop the coffee table.

For a while he just layered the different scraps atop each other trying to figure out how they looked together but the gnawing sensation in his core took away his focus. He rested his head atop the long black piece surprised as an unwelcome feeling crawled over him.

It was like home. Dark, with nothing to look at, nothing to see, a plain black slate where nothing ever happened because nothing was all there was. He scrunched it under his fingers but it sunk back to the table as soon as he let go. His breath escaped him slowly as he sighed. Ever since that weird dream he’d been wondering if he even wanted to go back.

He picked up the orange piece and placed it atop the black, there were so many things he liked here. So many friends, he placed the cyan beside it, so many pieces of himself, then the purple, so many smiles, then the last one, so many thoughts, so many things to see, so many wonders to learn about. 

Was it okay that he liked it here? The trees swaying in the morning breeze always looked like they were greeting him. Everyday someone met him with a smile that made him feel wanted. There was something here that he had missed so much while he was at home that despite all that it offered he wanted to leave. 

Everything in his inventory said it was okay for him to stay here: Asgore’s lighter, the phone, everything he had were things not from home. If he had them then maybe that wasn’t his home at all! He’d really like to imagine that he belonged here.

Would Toriel get mad if he said he wanted to stay here with them? He couldn’t help but smile, he wanted this to be his home! He tapped each swatch as he counted the letters  _ H-O-M-E _ even the colors looked like his friends! 

Yes, he wanted to stay here, he didn’t care about his door anymore, he didn’t care if the light hurt, or touches were unpleasant, or if he kept changing without want. He was here on the Surface with friends who were happy to see him.

_ H-O-M-E _ , he tapped out again, he still needed a Frisk! He dug through the basket before finding a slick shiny red material. With a state of reverie he ran it between his fingers amazed at how perfect it seemed for their human friend. A little soul shape inside the O seemed to be a good fit for Frisk.

He turned back to the sewing kit to grab the rest of the supplies he needed. The pain at his core drifted away as he lost himself in his project cutting away at the scraps until they looked like the letters he was wanting. Just as he began to stitch them to the black banner he heard a soft  _ pink _ against the glass. 

The sound was easy enough to ignore until it came again, and again, Aster turned to the window with a quizzical expression. Oh, it was probably snow! He hurriedly clamored to the window wincing preemptively having forgotten how gray the sky had been the last several days.

A small white pellet bounced off the window before another one hit in the same spot. Strange, Frisk made it sound like something well, softer at least, and how could they play with a few pebbles? His eyes fell out to the yard to find a single yellow flower amongst the mostly brown grass.

Toriel had explained that all of the pretty leaves and colorful flowers had gone away because they couldn’t wear things like coats to help protect them. This flower didn’t seem to be cold at all, in fact it was so bright against the muted colors it was rather welcoming.

The tiny flower waved in the breeze-- that wasn’t right… He looked to the trees to confirm the air was quiet today, so how did the flower wave? When he looked back down it was nowhere to be seen.

He wrapped the curtains in his hands prepared to pull them shut when another white pellet hit the window. “Please stop,” he spoke firmly to the uneasy feeling that was replacing the nervous one. 

“Howdy,” it was muffled, barely audible through the glass, but it prevented him from shutting the curtains. His eyes fell to the ground just below the windowsill to find it smiling up at him. Flowers… didn’t normally have faces, at least to the best of his knowledge.

A green stem grew from the ground and gestured to Aster’s left before they both disappeared. Cautiously he walked over to the sunroom door, turned the lock, and opened it. 

Immediately his form tightened trying desperately to keep his warmth inside as the screened in porch offered poor defence against the biting cold. There was a way to bring the glass over the top of the windows but he was unsure how. He’d never been back here before; the cozy wicker furniture seemed out of place against the gray sky but he couldn’t help but imagine it was nice to read here where the trees were so visible. 

He should get his books! It was a little cold but it didn’t bother him too much. Oh, but what if he wasn’t supposed to be out here? 

“Did you forget about me already?” The voice was high pitched and sweet as cinnabunnies.

Aster leaned against the nearest window to see the same yellow flower with a face, “Hi,” he stated bluntly.

The plant giggled, apparently plants could giggle, “That wasn’t very friendly! I thought you were nice.” It tilted its head to the side with a strange half smile.

“I try to be… But I don’t know you.” He hadn’t met anyone without Toriel or Frisk around to introduce him and something about this didn’t feel right.

“Oh silly me,” it made a ridiculous face in an attempt to express forgetfulness, “I’m Flowey the Flower,” he winked a small spark of magic fluttered from the pitch black eye, “I’m one of Frisk’s friends!”

“Hi.”

Flowey tsked, “That wasn’t any better than the first time,” their smile dropped to a frown so quickly it seemed like they were wearing a different face.

“That’s because I don’t believe you.” He’d seen the pictures Frisk had of their friends, he’d met everyone now, and Frisk had never mentioned a talking yellow flower. 

“That’s because I’m their  _ secret  _ friend,” Flowey’s black eyes seemed to gray over with boredom, “and they’ve told me a lot about you!”

“Frisk talks about me?” For some reason the cold seemed to back away from him. Frisk talked about him to their secret friend that meant something didn’t it?

“Yeah but not nearly as much as Papyrus! He won’t shut up about you!”

“You know Papyrus?” As simply as that his fears about the odd plant disappeared: if they were friends with Frisk AND Papyrus then they couldn’t be anything bad.

“Oh yes,” they were suddenly back into the conversation with a wide smile, “he’s the President of the Official Flowey Fanclub, we have keychains and everything.” Aster brightened, Papyrus was an excellent judge of character he’d said so himself! “So can we try again?”

“Try what?”

“Howdy, I’m Flowey, Flowey the Flower!”

Introductions! That’s what they were doing, “Hi, I’m Aster, Aster the…” He clamped his teeth together, “we’re still trying to figure that out.”

Flowey hummed, “Golly, ya know Aster’s a type of flower!”

He sighed tiredly: “But I’m not a flower.”

“I suppose not,” Flowey drooped on their stem. “So what are you doing today?”

It took a bit too long for Aster to remember the project he was working on and when he did, he realized he wanted to keep it a secret. “It’s a free day,” he decided was the best response.

A devilish smirk blossomed across his face, “So you can do anything you want right?”

Aster shook his head, “I can’t use the oven.”

The laugh that escaped Flowey was not of the pleasant variety and it had Aster second guessing talking to them. With a sharp inhale Flowey cut the laugh off entirely as if it never existed, “Well, why don’t you do something  _ really _ different?”

“Like what?”

“Like… Going somewhere new!”

“No,” he stepped back, “I’m not supposed to go anywhere!”

Flowey scoffed, “But it’s a free day and your stuck inside, that’s not free, that’s captive, which is the opposite of free.” A  _ click _ sound caught Aster’s attention as a vine slid through the outside door and pulled it open. “Come on!”

He clutched at his midsection as the nervous pains wracked through him once more, “No.”

The plant disappeared into the earth than reappeared on the other side of the screen door with a concerned expression, “Aster are you hurt?”

His brows knit together as he tried to remain straight faced, “Frisk said I was just nervous…”

For a beat Flowey seemed genuinely concerned stretching their main stem to get a closer look. “Friend, when is the last time you ate anything?”

“Oh, I don’t need to do that,” he shrugged. There had been an attempt shortly after he came to the Surface. After biting down atop a cooked carrot a piece fell in his mouth, like it was supposed to, but it just sat there squishy, messy, far too sweet, he ended up fishing it out with his fingers then vowing never to do that again.

“How long have you been… Nervous?” They tried.

“Since Asgore came over,” he counted the days in his head trying to remember a certain event from each day, “eight days ago.” When Flowey’s petals tilted to one side he added softly, “It didn’t hurt until today.”

“Well a lot has happened since then hasn’t it?” A lot had but there was no means for Flowey to know that he’d never met them. “For starters you have arms now, that’s pretty weird!”

“I-is it?” Maybe arms were weird for a flower but they weren’t that weird: Toriel, Frisk, everyone else had them.

“And those weird black bullets! I’ve never seen any that color before! Golly I was as surprised as everyone else!” Aster tightened his grip over his midsection grimacing, some other monster out there had to have black bullets if there were blue and golden ones. “And that dragon skull was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“It isn’t weird!” He snapped, “It’s my attack!” He’d admittedly forgotten about his blaster until he saw the massive amounts of magic Papyrus and Undyne were throwing. He couldn’t help but feel focusing all that energy on a single pattern would be a lot easier when it just clicked. The draconic skull that he’d made all by himself was magic, his magic, so if it was weird than he was.

Everyone had acted so...frightened by it… Like it was bad but he wasn’t! It wasn’t.

“Hey. Hey,” Flowey soothed, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Aster decided at that moment he was done talking with flowers, he turned around and tugged on the door to the house but the handle didn’t turn. Since his hands changed he’d had a bit of difficulty gripping things, they tended to slide right off, so he tried again to no avail. No, no, no, he jostled the handle.

“Oh no,” despite their words Flowey didn’t seem too upset, “did that silly lock stick again? Toriel has problems with it all the time.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Nope!” They cheered at their own unhelpfulness. 

“But I’m not supposed to be outside,” his hands gripped at his arms as the cold began to settle over him. “You really can’t op--”

“I’m a flower not a lock pick,” Flowey deadpanned, “Besides… I have a better idea!”

“Why don’t we go to my place? I can call Frisk and explain what happened! Oh! And on the way there we could get you something to eat!” 

Why did a flower have a phone? His mind busied itself trying to imagine exactly how the small plant could make a phone call at all. 

“How does that sound?” Flowey hummed after an awkward pause.

“Not good,” he shook his head subtly.

“Look pal, I don’t think you have any other options… I promise I’ll explain everything to Frisk okay? You won’t get in any trouble at all,” they winked.

Aster turned to face the flower trying desperately to calm the prickling sensation that ran down his arms. There was something about them that just… wasn’t right. It sent chills across every ounce of his being but did he really have any other choice? “Y-you promise?” 

“Absolutely friend! I don’t ever go back on my promises!”

He held his breath as he approached the side door, “Are you sure you can’t open the door?”

Flowey drooped on his stem, “Come on Aster I wouldn’t go through all this trouble if I could just unlock the door.”

His hand slid over the lock of the screen door so then Toriel left it unlocked? That didn’t sound like her, but Flowey promised he wasn’t lying. He stepped outside of the sunroom feeling the full brunt of the cold for the first time. “There we go! See no problem at all!” Flowey smiled and for once it felt genuine enough to warrant a smile in return. “I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends!”

Aster didn’t bother to agree with them. Maybe when he was less nervous, or maybe less hungry, he’d stop being intimidated by the yellow flower but for now he couldn’t see them being friends. “Follow me!” Flowey disappeared only to reappear swaying at the end of the driveway. As they walked away from the house Aster took one last glance back to the red door hoping it would open to him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowey! Put him back! What are you doing?
> 
> Sorry this was a short update but fear not because the next one is already twice as long ^^’ it’s also nearly done so we’ll see if I can manage to wait the full two weeks.


	13. Snowflakes on a Cityscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey and Aster take take a stroll through the city where they meet all sorts of new things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so excited to finally post this one! I haven’t been able to hold onto a chapter or get ahead since I started this one! As always thank you for the Kudos and comments I’m super excited to see what you guys think of this one!

The house was so far away now, Aster looked wistfully back hoping that if he just squint hard enough he’d be able to see it again. Of course he couldn’t though: they’d been walking for so long the black of his form was stiff from the cold and he could see his breath in the air. “Come on slowpoke you’ll miss the view!”

Aster rubbed his arms firmly trying to fight away the stiffness that had settled in them. He trudged up the hill across brittle grass to meet his far too cheery escort. The bitterness that had caught itself within him wormed its way out as he took in the brilliant grid like pattern of the city.

Every little corner was dotted with a sparkling light, as were the windows, the dim lighting made the city look like something that could only be dreamt up. There were so many houses side by side! Trees were scarce but the twisting branches that were visible gave the landscape something familiar. “You live here?” Aster whispered afraid his voice would distort the scene below.

“Yeah,” their voice didn’t exactly inspire confidence but they moved down the hill before any real thought could be had. “We’re almost there!”

He took a deep breath then followed the flower, he’d come this far after all.

The constant hum of the busy city caused by humans going about their own routine was the first thing he noticed. It thrummed in his chest with a pulse of its’ own; he had to clench his teeth to ignore it. The humans that passed by gave odd looks, others paused with their phones turned towards him, while some ignored him entirely. 

Regardless, he waved at everyone and tried his best to muster up a smile against the cold.

“Knock that off,” Flowey hushed from between the brick work. Aster drew his hands to his chest letting his worry read across his face. “Look,” they sighed, “not every human is Frisk. You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself.”

“Oh.”

“Oh he says,” Flowey scoffed. 

It was much harder to follow Flowey when there were so many feet to try and see around. Flowey seemed a lot more limited in where he could pop up at often appearing along the base of a building or in a crack along the street. Being a flower seemed to be quite difficult in the city it was a wonder they lived here and not out in the woods somewhere.

He turned his attention skyward happy to ignore Flowey for a little while. The houses loomed over him with a presence that made him feel like he was being watched. No matter where he turned there was another one: tall and imposing, as it watched his journey. Of course the buildings didn’t have eyes but he felt judged nonetheless.

For houses they had awfully big windows making it far too easy to see inside. They didn’t even have curtains to draw over the windows when it got too bright. Some were lined with nothing but shelves and shelves of the same item over and over again making it seem like they were really important. Maybe he should get shelves for his cinnabunnies instead of keeping them in the drawer. Then they would look as important as they felt.

Something white drifted lazily between his eyes, he blinked and it seemed to disappear but as he resumed following Flowey another white fluff fell to his shoulder. When he looked up to see where it had come from the sky was littered with tiny white feathers that seemed to fall however they wanted.

He wanted to pluck one out of the air but when he finally managed to clasp one between his fingers it was gone before he could even look it over. “Flowey?” He dropped his head sharply to the ground only to watch the cement swing a circle around him. 

Suddenly he couldn’t find his balance as some burning sensation crawled into the back of his mouth. Next thing he knew he was sitting along the side of a well lit home unaware of how he’d found his way to the ground. The gnawing feeling at his core was back twisting so tightly he wondered if it could pull him in. He curled into as tight of a ball as he could muster a small whimper escaped him before he could clench it behind his teeth.

“Woah!” Flowey sprouted incredibly close to him, “What’s the matter?” Aster clenched tighter at his midsection not sure how to make the words he needed. “Okay,” they grimaced, “I’m going to find something for you to eat… So you just stay there!” They disappeared before popping back up in the same spot, “Don’t go anywhere!”

Agreeance was given with a nod and the flower was gone once again. His vision blurred as he forced himself to sit up in an effort to stave off the cold of the cement. 

Everything here was so noisy: feet stomped past him without care, people talked so loudly about getting out of the cold it made his chest clench, giant vehicles tore against the concrete without care, some of which vibrated with a sound that threatened to turn him to goop. 

The fluffy cold rain was coming down harder now landing bristling cold atop him and encircling the ground around him. Maybe this was snow?

He looked up to the sky and watched it fall trying to trace its path to the ground but they were difficult to track when there were so many. They fell so softly, gracefully, like they were dancing with the air around them. A soft smile replaced his clenched teeth as he felt his eyes grow heavy. 

Just before he could drift off Sans and Papyrus came to mind, he wondered what they thought of the weather… Maybe, they could go for ice cream sometime.

His eyes traced the darkness for any semblance of a seam but of course there was nothing. He couldn’t see himself at all but he felt his hands pull to his chest as it ached, he didn’t want to be here. Something warm, pleasant, caressed his form filling it with a chilling cold that eased the pain in him. Right… nothing hurt at home. No burning lights, no pulsing sounds, no screeching textures, everything was comforted by nothingness.

It was a warm blanket after the day he’d been having but to enwrap himself would be to forget what that even felt like. Was that really a bad thing? It hardly mattered, a gloom settled behind his eyes that rolled about in his head in fog like patterns. This was his home. Home was where you were meant to be. And he was meant to be here. It didn’t matter if he wanted to be or not.

The soft pulling sensation began to siphon away his thoughts burying them in the nothing of home. He’d forgotten how nice it was to just  _ be _ , to not run your mind ragged trying to find pieces of a monster you didn’t know, constantly finding new things to look at, to touch, he hadn’t realized just how exhausting it was. How tired he was.

It would be effortless to just sleep...

A burning sensation settled in his shoulder sharpening his mind to pain before it disappeared. Frustrated, he turned to see what caused it surprised to find a mess of shifting lines standing directly behind him.

Red, purple, yellow, it seemed they couldn’t decide what color they desired to be. Once he gave them his full attention the lines stopped jiggling incoherently. Now they were a long thin outline of tall legs and lanky arms but the hands and face were masked away by busy bodied static. Their back was to him but he had the distinct impression they weren’t anyone handsome.

Of course calling out provided no response. He took a step forward. Reached for them. But they didn’t seem interested in acknowledging him far too occupied with whatever it was holding.

Aster found himself capable of peering over their shoulder to find two masses of static: one pulsed yellow and a vibrant blue the other a pure white light that occasionally hinted at other shades. They weren’t anything at all but he felt an immediate connection to them.

He made his way to the front of the trio trying to get a better idea of the squiggly lined figure who had managed to find their way into his home. Now in front of them he had no greater idea than when he stood behind them. Once his eyes settled on the pair of static again he couldn’t tear them away no matter how hard everything in him screamed to do so.

Something inside him told him to touch them, that he needed to hold them too, but he was afraid to. The static around them seemed so painful and gave him the impression of touching charged metal. Their forms were so inconsistent he wondered how the other one was standing so stoically still. “Hello?” He called surprised his voice managed to make an impression at all.

The tall outline squared its shoulders, surprised someone was there, the static over its’ face seemed to tilt from side to side as if inspecting him. Mechanical grating noises escaped them, they were far from words but he understood: “Do you want to hold them?”

Aster clutched his hands to his chest, “Am I allowed?”

It chuckled, “You are if I am.” They approached him but just as he was about to pass the blurs to him he hesitated staring down at them. “How do you see them?”

“With my eyes…?” How else could he see them?

They hummed a sound which was similar to a blender on a low setting, “What do they look like to you?”

“They’re just…” He clamped his teeth before turning his attention back to the pair, “children.” Despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to hold the pair he took a step back, “They need you.”

The static over his face grew intense fizzing and popping but wordless. They were crying. The children squirmed uncomfortable with their bearers sadness. He couldn’t tolerate to see them upset, he had to hold them close, tell them everything was okay. Just as he thought this he found them in his arms. Everything about himself suddenly seemed more solid, he had a form amongst the darkness, long black dripping arms, and two very good hands to hold them close.

Free of the pair the other one took a step back, “Don’t!” Aster warned but it was too late, they fell through the darkness their outline consumed by static that ate ravishly at its colors.

A crack broke the outline in the shoulder and a sharp pain tore through Aster’s own like splinters made from shards of fire. Piece by piece the other one began to shatter into droplets of color the static fighting desperately to snatch the rain that drifted to the ceiling. 

It hurt, the colors hurt, the static hurt, watching that poor whoever being shredded into particles of darkness that were consumed by the void hurt. 

The pair in his arms seemed to grow heavier and heavier as they grew discontent in his arms. They began to burn against his chest emitting a sizzling sound as they demanded he drop them. Their static grew wild crawling up his shoulders to his face fighting for the chance to find their caretaker he couldn’t--

“I lost them!” He sobbed gross hideous breaths that wracked his already aggravated body. “I let go! Why did I do that? They needed me!” His hand scratched furiously at his eyes as the bitter cold made the tears down his face feel like cold metal.

“Aster! Snap out of it!” Came a high pitched voice that seemed familiar but he couldn’t place it in his hysterics. He rolled over to his side startled when he was met with a harsh cold rough texture that grated against him. Since it was uncomfortable he should move, but he deserved it, he’d lost them he was supposed to--

“It was just a dream idiot! You fell asleep in the snow like an idiot!” They screeched. He did not care for that voice, it needed to go away. “Are you even listening to me?”

“No! And I don’t want to!”

“You’re going to get sick!”

“I don’t care!”

“I do! Frisk will feed me to the lawn mower!”

Aster choked on his words but forced them to come up anyways, “I let go of them! They were important and I let go!”

“Sometimes you have to let go!” Flowey huffed. Aster forced himself to sit back up to stare down at the yellow flower that had drug him all the way out here. “Trust me… I know.” They sagged on their stem lost in thought before turning back up to him, “But it was only a dream...Give it time and you won’t even remember it.”

“But what if it was important?” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, “What if I’m forgetting something really really important? I don’t want to let anyone down, I have to do something, there’s something or someone I’m supposed to find.”

“Golly friend, that sounds like a lot to deal with,” Flowey bounced, “Why don’t we move somewhere a little quieter, maybe a little warmer, huh?”

Aster nodded, “Quieter sounds nice.”

“Good, good,” they seemed to be calming themself more than Aster, “can you stand?”

It took a bit of trial and error, plus one heck of a death grip on the brick of the building, but he managed to pull himself up. Every part of him was reluctant to move seemingly just as tired as his mind was. He followed Flowey hunched over in such a way that his shoulders were higher than his head which was parallel to the sidewalk. Flowey tucked into a hallway lined with plastic bags and one large metal bin.

“This building is a confectionary,” Flowey stretched their roots high above their head to reach down to the bottom of the bin, “they have started experimenting with Monster Candy and it seems,” their voice strained as the roots came back bearing pieces of brightly colored glass, “that they are still learning!”

Flowey offered a piece to him but he pulled a face: “You shouldn’t eat glass.”

“Were you even listening!?” Flowey spat, “It’s candy!” He tossed a small piece in his mouth. “It’s sweet,” they grimaced, “or it’s supposed to be. But this is better than nothing for now.” Aster took the piece extended to him, “Just sort of bite on it and hum.”

The texture was sticky but it didn’t cling to his fingers whenever he tried to let go. He pressed his mouth over it and hummed. Immediately his mouth was flooded with an odd flavor. It wasn’t terrible but it was burnt. 

Toriel never burnt her cooking but he knew that’s what had fallen upon this poor treat. You weren’t supposed to burn food. That was easy enough to understand yet difficult to achieve. He tried to keep the burnt taste at the forefront of his mind, something about it was comforting.

Without ever having had any candy he was aware it wasn’t supposed to be like this, he sat down. How did he know that? What was candy supposed to be like? He hummed, it should be sweet, it should dissolve slowly in your mouth and tempt you to bite it. This didn’t seem to want to dissolve at all and once he worked up the nerve to bite down it shattered which he knew was far too fragile.

“See! You just needed to eat something! Your stats look better already!”

“Thank you,” he nibbled bashfully on his candy shard. “Can we go back to Toriel’s now?”

“She’s not going to be able to open the door for a while still, come on! Don’t you wanna play with me?”

No. Was the first thing that came to mind but he couldn’t say anything so rude. Not with the flower trying to take care of him after he’d locked himself out of the house. Aster thought back to their conversation by the back door and recalled a clear, distinct,  _ click. _ The screen door clicked, which meant it had been locked. 

Aster furrowed his brows, “You can open the door.”

“I don’t have a key silly--”

“No! You opened the screen door!” Why was this just now occurring to him now that he was miles away from home? He wouldn’t have gone with them in the first place, “You could open the front one too!”

“Now, now, don’t--”

“You can can’t you?” Aster squared his shoulders. Flowey sunk closer to the fallen snow, “Why did I,” he placed his head between his hands, “why did I do this?”

“You might want to lower your volume…” Flowey turned to the mouth of the hallway-- no, when two buildings formed a new street it was an alley. They were in an alley full of garbage bundled in bags stealing waste food out of a trash can. 

“No!” He snapped as a burning sensation filled his chest, “Not until you show me the way back to Toriel’s!”

Flowey tilted his head to the sky and groaned, “And what do you--”

“Hey.” The voice was firm, authoritative, and demanded their attention. It belonged to a scrawny human male dressed in clothes unbefitting of the season, his eyes barely seemed supported by the dark circles around them. 

“Hello,” Aster greeted stiffly only to receive a groan from Flowey.

The human walked with a wide gait closing the distance between them very quickly and allowing two other humans in equally unkempt condition to fill in behind him. “Cheerful fellow aren’t ya?”

Something was wrong, he couldn’t tell exactly what it was but there was a building sense of fear… No. Danger. Aster steeled his gaze so that he could keep all of the humans in sight, “I try to be.”

“Yeah, a lot of you pretend to be,” he reached into his pocket, “well, if you really are friendly you’ll give me your I.D. card so I can get on my way.”

Aster looked down to Flowey for an answer but didn’t receive one, “I don’t have anything.”

The human whistled, “Then you don’t belong here at all, do you?”

“I would like to.” Aster stated plainly.

“Where’s your family?” He tilted his head at an angle more becoming of a bird than a man.

Family. The word echoed around inside his head until his chest stole it in a fit of jealousy. If he really belonged here then there was someone waiting for him somewhere… There had to be, but: “I don’t have one,” was the only truth he knew. 

“Perfect!” He laughed, the other humans joined in, “And no one will see your dust in the snow!”

Dust. Dust was what remained of monsters who had been defeated. They were right, he’d never seen dust before but he knew it would be difficult to find in the white building up on the ground. If it kept up at this rate then he’d just be buried below it, then no one would find him. That wasn’t going to happen. He hadn’t found what he needed to do yet, if this human was threatening him then: “I assure you,” his posture straightened as his eyes fell to a glare, “that would be a terrible decision.”

In his peripheral he saw Flowey’s petals bristle as they turned with a confused expression up to him. The two humans that were further from him tripped over vines but the one closest to him stabbed swiftly with their knife cutting the air and making it whimper. Without a single thought the draconic skull of his blaster settled in front of him like a knight’s shield making the knife clatter to the ground.

“Gaster?” Flowey squeaked. 

The blaster snarled, black goo dripping from its’ muzzle profusely as its’ eyes burned into the humans. The would be assailants made the unanimous decision that this wasn’t worth their time. They turned tail and darted away leaving little proof that they’d been there at all but their shoeprints and knife.

Aster wrapped his arms around the blaster squeezing it tight, “You’re not scary! You’re not.”

Flowey blinked in surprise as the intimidating monster from less than a minute ago was completely lost snuggling the attack like some sort of lost pet. “W-why don’t we go back to Toriel’s?”

He nodded eagerly, “Yes please!” The pair were far too willing to leave the alley behind them but it took a minute for Aster to work up the nerve to disperse his blaster. 

Aster gasped: the city looked so different now! Everything was white, covered in a good inch of snow that made it look like the clouds had taken a nap over the city. There were less people, cars, and noise now, in fact, when he shut his eyes he could hear the subtle fall of snow.

It was beautiful.

Something about it told him he needed a warm drink between his hands and a nice coat then he could stay out here for hours just to watch the way the lights bounced off of the snow. He didn’t know light could be so pleasant.

Flowey on the other hand didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as a slew of grievances accompanied him everytime he resurfaced. A part of him wished to comfort the poor plant but he was aware that picking them up was probably a bad idea. So he left Flowey to continue his increasingly crass comments.

They were just about at the edge of the city when blue and red lights began to circle the snow. “No!” Flowey wailed sulking into a fluffy bed of snow. “Aster. Just do whatever they say okay?”

“What are you--?” Flowey was gone. How was he supposed to get back to Toriel’s now?

“Excuse me?” Aster turned to face the man dressed in a puffy black outfit with silver writing along it. He leaned against the black car door, “We’ve had some reports of a truly  _ dangerous  _ monster on the loose whose just  _ lashing  _ out against poor,  _ defenseless _ , humans.” He was much more relaxed than the humans from the alley had been. 

“Got any I.D. on you?”

Aster shook his head trying desperately to keep his eyes open in the blinding lights spinning on top of the car. If they weren’t so bright maybe they would be pretty too. The man sighed then reached into his car, a moment later the lights were no longer flashing.

“You shouldn’t be here without an I.D. card, I know it doesn’t always work the way it should but they are for your protection.” He approached and Aster drew back instinctively, “Hey now,” he put his hands up, “I just need to ask a few questions okay?”

“Stay there,” Aster cautioned.

“Okay, but you will answer my questions?” His voice was calm and reassuring.

“If you stay there.”

“Sounds good to me,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “My name is Justin, what’s yours?”

“Aster,” he replied shyly. There wasn’t anything wrong with answering a few questions was there? As long as Justin stayed over there he couldn’t try to make him dust or anything. So he was safe… he hoped.

“Aster huh, you cold?” He rubbed his arms puffing a cloud into the air that lingered lazily around his face.

“A- a little bit,” that wasn’t anything he’d expected.

“What brought you to the city?”

“A flower.”

That gave him pause, “Was it yellow?”

“Do you know Flowey?” Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he wasn’t exactly sure but it was something.

“It has been a while, but yeah.” Justin bounced his head with an irritated expression, “How’d he convince you to come here?”

Aster clutched his midsection, “I was hungry.”

“I see…” Justin ran his hand through his dark brown hair shaking a few flakes of snow out of it, “I can help with that but I gotta ask some personal questions first okay?” Aster nodded; they were just questions. 

Justin then continued with a collection of questions about where he was from, how old he was, what species he was, where he lived, and with who. Aster did his best to answer what he could but it seemed he was still missing a lot of answers. When he was asked about a family Aster shook his head solemnly but when Justin asked about any friends he was a torrent of words and hand signs.

“They sound like really good friends,” Justin smiled earnestly his eyes catching a bit of an ornery glint from the street lights.

“They are,” Aster’s expression softened as he cut himself off mid tangent.

“I got one more question for you but I have to get a bit closer okay?” When Aster clenched his fist he held his hand out to him, “I promise I’m not going to do anything.”

He inched forward cautiously, as if Aster were going to hurt him, but he wasn’t, of course he wasn’t. “Can I see your bullet type?”

Aster held his hands out and made a black bone shaped bullet that stained the snow below as it dripped. “Wow,” Justin awed, “haven’t ever seen one like this…” He pulled out his phone to view a series of pictures of the humans that attacked him covered in yellowing splotches. 

“Are you with them?” Aster asked.

“Do your bullets always drip like this?”

“Are you--” He started to repeat but was cut off abruptly.

“Please answer the question.”

“Yes.” Justin crouched down in the snow running his hand over the black watching as it smeared over more and more of the snow but never really losing its’ darkness. “They are very messy so I’m not supposed to use magic inside.”

“Probably for the best,” he stood back up, “now these boys, do you know them?” He gestured to his phone.

“Yes, they aren’t very nice.”

“Yeah, but when people come to me with problems I have to take them seriously,” he turned his phone off and pocketed it, “they were going on and on about being attacked by a dragon.”

“Oh I have one of those too!” Aster cheered.

Justin sighed, “Can I see it?”

“Sure,” Aster shrugged and the blaster returned to his side. Justin fell backwards in the snow as he tried to leap away from it. “Sorry! It’s not scary I promise!”

“Yeah… no… not at all just slipped on some… snow…” he arched his back as he stood back up in an attempt to pop it. “How does it work?”

“It fires a black laser.”

“Uh...huh… Did it hit those boys at all?”

“No.”

“And it drips too?”

“Yes.” Aster felt he was getting very good at this question game.

“Well, I think we’re about done here then,” he dusted the snow off of his pants, “wanna go for a ride with me?” he hitched his thumb back to the car. “Since you know Undyne I’m gonna take you somewhere you can meet up with her okay?”

“Oh.” Aster rubbed his arms, “I’ve never… been in one of those before.” He’d watched Toriel and Frisk get in the purple vehicle several times to go places but something about them seem uncannily unfamiliar. Most things he found he had an idea of what they were or how they worked just looking at them but these were… new. Whoever he was before hadn’t really seen one of them before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the lights off and drive nice and slow, you’ll get the whole backseat to sit however is comfortable.” He extended his hand expectantly.

“You’re going to take me to Undyne?”

“Yes.”

“O-okay,” he wrapped his hand around Justin’s surprised by how warm his grip was.

Justin opened the back door for him and he slid into the slick black seats. The vehicle had a mix of smells, not one of them particularly good, but what concerned him most was the metal grate between him and the front seat. He poked his fingers through, gripped onto it as if he could crush it. When Justin slid into the front Aster clenched his teeth, “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Justin stated sympathetically, “but you can’t stay in the city anymore, okay?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then we’re all good.” 

Aster’s grip tightened on the metal bars as the vehicle began to move. The city blurred around him unsettling the candy that he’d had until he chose to lay down against the weird smelling seats. This wasn’t good was it? He was going to be in so much trouble when he got back home. Toriel was going to be so cross that he broke one of the big rules. 

When the vehicle lurched to a stop he was flung to the floorboards from the momentum. 

Justin chuckled when he opened the door to find Aster staring up at him from the floor. “Sorry about that, misjudged the breaking time,” he waited for some sort of a response but Aster was busy trying to figure out how to get his shoulders unstuck from the front and back seats. “Need some help?”

Aster nodded resolutely ready and willing for any sort of help that would get him out of this vehicle, out of this city, and back to Toriel’s. It took a bit of figuring but Justin managed to get him to a sitting position where he was able to return to the seat.

When at last he was free of the claustrophobia inducing vehicle he was surprised by the warm brown brick building that faced him. It looked more like a house than a shop but the large glowing orange letters that ran along the top of the building said that it was. He stared at the building for a long time trying to imagine what it looked like without the snow but for some reason it stuck in his mind as being what it had to look like.

The air smelled wonderful like when Toriel had guests but even better. His teeth chattered excitedly but he quickly covered them, what was that? He looked his form over trying to figure out why it felt like he was jittery but there was no indication of it from the outside. 

“Don’t worry, it’s warm inside.”

He wasn’t lying, the moment they stepped inside it felt like he was curled up next to the fireplace at home. Everything danced with a soft orange light that didn’t seem to bother him like the yellow ones affixed to the ceiling at home. Justin gestured for him to sit at a bench which he happily sunk into. 

It was a little loud for his tastes but he was mesmerized by how many monsters there were. All shapes and sizes eating together and carrying on with wide smiles or focused gazes. Aster couldn’t help but feel that they were like a big family all sharing a meal together. 

Justin joked with a few of them on his way over to a monster behind the bar who was decorated with leaping flames. It was a living fire! His eyes widened as he watched the monster look over to him while Justin spoke. Some strange giddiness bubbled up inside of him but he averted his eyes not wanting them to see him like this. 

_ Like what? _ He furrowed his brows, like in trouble. Obviously. 

He folded his arms over the table to rest his head, with any luck he’d sleep for days once he got back to Toriel’s. To home? Where was he supposed to be? His fingers wrapped around the clear salt shaker, Toriel’s home was nice, there were smiles, they told him good morning, he got to sleep, learn, and find pieces. He had to reach further for the pepper shaker: home was all he knew, it was safe,quiet, and welcoming but he had no idea how to get back.

If home wanted him there wouldn’t he have found his door by now? But after today would Toriel even want him there with Frisk? He put the salt and pepper shakers back as he tried to think if there were any other options. If he could just remember who he was the last time he was here maybe he’d have an idea but, as it stood, he wondered if he was better just staying right here.

His eyes darted up to Justin as he approached the table with the fiery monster who politely dimmed when Aster squinted at them. “Aster this is my good friend Grillby,” Justin gestured to them and they nodded, placing a plate of the most delicious smelling something or other Aster had ever smelled on the table. “He’s been helping me with monsters that get lost in the city. He’ll keep an eye on you until Undyne gets here okay?”

Aster wasn’t sure why but he felt safe with the flame. “Good it’s all settled then!” Justin acted like he was wiping his hands clean and laughed when Aster offered him a napkin. “Thanks,” he smiled but he cut it short and his posture lost the playful nature. 

“Hey. I want you to know all humans aren’t like the boys you met but they aren’t all like Frisk either.” His voice was stern but fair and Aster took his words to mind. “You have to be careful when dealing with anyone unfamiliar human or otherwise and play it as a case by case scenario, okay?”

“You’re a good monster Aster, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

A smile blossomed across every inch of his form as he finally sat up properly, “You think I’m good?”

Justin’s shoulders bounced subtly in his bulky shirt as he chuckled, “You’re one of the best cases. I have to go now. Don’t let me catch you in the city again.”

“Oh I don’t ever want to come back,” he replied flatly.

“That’s probably for the best,” Justin smiled, gave a half wave to Grillby, and exited out of the door they came in.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Grillby’s voice was soft as candlelight before he turned back to the bar.

_ Hmm _ , there was something about that flame that reminded him of Asgore. Not that they looked the same at all but that feeling was settling over him again: the idea that he was supposed to be excited to see him. This time though, he ignored it, he wasn’t going to get upset over monsters he didn’t even remember anymore.

Or he thought he wasn’t until he took a bite of the sandwich. The grease dripped out the back of the burger as the plush sweet bread caved under his fingers. Everything about it felt… habit forming. Each flavor combined in a way that was complementary, when he found himself taking a bigger bite he could also tell it was, soft, and perfectly cooked over a well tempered flame. This might be the best thing he’d ever eaten! 

Not that he had a wide array of comparison but something about this sandwich, this  _ burger _ , just made him happy. He found himself oddly jittery as he worked through it enjoying every bite as much as the first. It was so warm, so pleasant, so perfect. There was magic in every bite: traces of joy, of happiness, accomplishment, and pride everything about it sung praises of dedication.

He peered over his burger at Grillby, he knew this food, and he knew that flame. Maybe if he tried talking to them… Aster finished his burget off just a bit faster than he wanted to in order to approach the bar. 

His form squished in on itself as much as he could muster to stand between two bird monsters sitting at the stools. For much longer than a moment should last he stared mesmerized as the flame poured glasses of drinks twirling and twisting the thermos looking thing in the air before pouring the contents into the tall glasses. Grillby’s natural lighting made the glasses sparkle with a captivating mix of oranges. After Grillby passed the drinks down to the customer by sliding it across the table, without spilling a single drop, Aster clapped excitedly.

Grillby’s attention snapped to him, his flames took a bit of a pinkish hue, before he bowed shortly. “...Need something?”

“Just to tell you that is the very best burger I have ever had!”

A few sparks puffed from his form, “I’m glad… you liked it.”

“I loved it! You’re amazing!” The birds on either side of him chirped a laugh as Grillby turned away. “Would you poor me a drink?”

Grillby looked him up and down, “How old are you?”

No! No more question games he was tired of it. “I don’t know how old I am, I don’t know what I am, I don’t know where my home is.”

The white of Grillby’s tiny dot like eyes became evident behind his glasses, “Once you know, I’ll pour you a glass of whatever you want.”

Aster folded his arms, fair enough he supposed, “Alright, when I remember who I am I’ll come back and you’ll poor me a glass of…” He stalled his mind searching for some sort of fancy drink. Toriel had those long necked bottles with the ridiculous titles but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single one. “Fairy Fizz. A glass of Fairy Fizz.”

His flames twitched at an odd angle as he closed the distance between them. He looked Aster up and down again, trying to find something he’d missed on the previous trials but he seemed to come up empty handed. “Sure. I’ll have a batch waiting for you then.”

“Good.” Aster confirmed with a smile on his face. Without a doubt he knew this flame and he was excited for the day he knew him again.

“ASTER!” A loud grating, scratching, demanding voice bellowed from the entryway. He didn’t need to turn to see Undyne to know that’s who it was. Somehow he’d managed to completely forget he was in trouble, but he remembered now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest update I’ve posted ^^’ I hope it’s not too long but a lot happened!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed!


	14. Storm Clouds and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Toriel learn about what happened to Aster in the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many kudos and sweet comments last update! Thank you guys so much! You made a frustrating week so much better!

Frisk suppressed the urge to moan, this entire meeting had been so frustrating! They wanted to say pointless but that was only because no even ground could be reached between team Dreemurr and team Stuffy-Old-Guys. 

Monsters were venturing out into the world that had been locked away from them for so long and apparently this was a problem. As more monsters left Ebott they were being labeled as an infestation just as they had when they first left the mountain. Now other cities were calling upon the decision makers of Ebott to solve this invasion before it got out of hand.

It was sort of funny, no one had problems asking for monsters to join their construction crews, or to work simple tasks for them, some even got full scholarships to attend schools in other cities in hopes of increasing diversity, but just wanting to live somewhere else was a problem. What were they supposed to do? Ban traveling for monsters only? Put up a border around the city so no one could leave? What good would that do? It would just make everyone in the world think monsters were dangerous and needed to be contained. Even inside Ebott it would create an unease potentially setting monsters back to square one!

“Which is why I’m proposing a travel ban,” said the youngest of the city council members who made up for his lacking years with the most ridiculously old fashioned beard Frisk had ever seen.

And that time Frisk didn’t suppress their need to groan which received a sharp glare from Toriel. “Sir,” she started, “I can’t help but feel that such a large statement could potentially set relations between our species back.”

“I agree,” Asgore’s voice sounded much more authoritative in the hall, or maybe it was just the snazzy black suit with the shiny gold tie, “perhaps we could start a relocation project of sorts? Maybe set up group homes in other cities until the humans are adjusted?”

“That’s a lot of money,” an old woman in a striped suit hummed, “not to mention who would maintain these dwellings? How would those that leave be able to contribute to cities that might not even hire them?”

Frisk ran their hands through their hair trying to calm their racing mind, which was made every bit harder when their phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. 

This was just like when they pushed their way into the city for the first time. No one wanted to hire monsters and the ones that did didn’t want to pay them, it was an honor to work after all. Monsters were so nervous, and so good spirited in general, that most of them fell for every line.

“And you are going to tell me that enforcing a border patrol around the city isn’t more costly?” Toriel huffed trying to ignore her own phone buzzing in the chair.

“It would create jobs,” the younger man stated.

“It would increase peace amongst more than just our own citizens,” the oldest man’s voice coughed out in a dusty wheeze.

“Yes but--” Toriel scraped her claws against the table, “I’m sorry I need to take this call.” She scooped her phone up, “Pardon me for a minute this won’t be long.” With that she stepped into the hallway. Which left the human ambassador and the big fuzzy pushover to continue the argument.

‘What if we put monsters as the border patrol?’ Frisk suggested, ‘They could be closer to other cities and have jobs that give them a sense of purpose. Monsters would feel much more at ease being denied by their own kind.’

“What did it say?” The woman asked. She tried to be supportive, or some mockery of the word, of Frisk’s identity but it always felt shallow and forced. Compliments on dresses were typically followed with a comment about how they looked sharper in a suit though. She would try to say they or them but it always seemed to be ‘it’.

“ _ They _ proposed stationing monsters instead of--” Asgore was cut off before he could finish translating.

“Absolutely preposterous, they can’t be in charge of their own kind,” the oldest man wheezed.

Asgore jerked his head back at that just barely managing to hide the way his muzzle snarled, “But you are in charge of representing your kind.”

“Yes, after decades of failing,” the young man folded his hands, “we have the experience to--”

The door to the hall flew open as Toriel quickly shoved her phone in her purse and grabbed the rest of her belongings, “I’m sorry but something has come up. Frisk and I need to leave.” Her voice was uncharacteristically breathless as she moved in a brash, quick, manner but still managed to maintain a level of poise and control. 

“Asgore, I’m sorry to leave you to deal with this,” Toriel placed a paw on his shoulder before staring definiantly at the council members, “I will e-mail you all with details but I really must go.”

With that Frisk’s prayers were answered as Toriel ushered them out the door. They did their best to keep up with their mom’s long strides. “What happened?” Frisk asked as they tugged open the car door.

Toriel sighed taking a moment to rest her forehead on the steering wheel, “Aster went to Ebott city this evening,” she muttered.

Frisk’s heart pulsed an extra beat, “Is he okay?”

She turned the key in the ignition, “Undyne took him home after a police officer found him. He’s there now.”

Aster hadn’t ever really expressed a want to go anywhere outside of just wanting to be with them. So where did this come from? Was he trying to find out where they went because it was a Saturday and he wasn’t supposed to be alone? Their mind racked up question after question that only Aster was capable of answering but it didn’t stop them from coming.

To ease the silence of the car ride they pulled out their phone to see twelve missed calls from Undyne. They were torn between describing that as excessive or necessary since they wouldn’t have answered otherwise. More interesting were the string on missed texts from Alphys:

_ Hiya Frisk :3 So about this phone you gave me? I have a bit of a favor to ask. Nothing bad lol just let me know when you can talk. _

_ OMG totally forgot about the summons! Well you keep doing that important ambassador stuff and I will hope your phone is on silent. So I think I’ve finally cracked it but I need to check see you know confirm with something and for that I’d kinda need to take Aster to the labs. In Hotland. _

_ I know Aster isn’t exactly travel ready yet. _

_ But this is important! And it has been so cloudy lately his light sensitivity shouldn’t be a problem! It might be a scary thought but I can 99% guarantee results!  _

_ Is your phone on silent or are you in trouble? _

_ I’m sorry if I got you in trouble _

_ I just heard about Aster from Undyne! What in the world happened?  _

They knew the lizard meant well but why couldn’t she just send one message and let it sit? Their eyes hovered over the phrase ‘99%’: that was as close to a hundred as Alphys ever got. There was something in the Hotland labs that would help prove Aster’s identity. So they had to go! But when they looked over to Toriel’s steely gaze they knew the decision wasn’t in their hands.

Toriel took a steadying breath as they pulled up to the house trying to push aside her own worry to find her ‘firm but fair’ face. Worry seemed to win out though her fiery soul still burned in her burgundy eyes. She lead the assault on the house but Frisk found themself snagged to the driveway. Their soul pulsed in their chest prepared for battle but it calmed when they saw the yellow flower.

‘Not right now Flowey!’ Frisk signed as urgently as they could muster.

“Frisk this is all my fault I promised--” Flowey started but Frisk ignored him while they obstinately untangling the vine from their leg.

‘I will talk to you in a minute,’ they glared before turning into the house. 

They had expected to round the corner to the living room and find Aster crying on the couch, or a puddle of goo on the floor, after whatever lecture Undyne had lashed at him, but instead he was fast asleep. He was simply curled up on the couch clutching a pillow to his chest as he slumbered against the armrest. Undyne seemed equally exhausted slouching in her uniform across Toriel’s chair. 

“I’m sorry, a talking yellow flower?” Toriel’s voice was soft as she tried not to disturb his sleep.

“Yeah, said it promised him food and that it would call Frisk to say everything was okay,” Undyne’s eyes were sealed as she rolled her wrist in lazy wordless gestures.

Toriel crossed to the sunroom door and turned the handle. “I should have given him a key a long time ago,” she sighed into the door, “I’m so sorry Undyne, I know you’ve had to work a lot lately.”

“It’s no problem,” she yawned stretching out as far as she could, “I was just getting off my shift anyways. Probably won’t be there much longer, hours are crap, and heists don’t happen nearly as often as the movies make it seem.”

‘Maybe they just know who's guarding the exhibits,’ Frisk winked.

“Fu hu hu! Better believe it kid!” She sprung to her feet as if she hadn’t just been half asleep a second ago, “Now that you guys are here mind if I head out?”

Toriel shook her head as she made her way back over, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course! Happy to help,” Undyne smiled softly to Aster, “he’s a good monster I’d hate to see anything bad happen to him.” With that Undyne scooped Frisk into a ferocious headlock/hug combination move and let herself out.

A soft  _ pink _ hit the window and it took everything in Frisk not to shout at the flower outside. Toriel pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to gently drape over Aster, she ran the back of her finger along the side of his face. “We are going to have words when you wake up,” she whispered, “but sleep now.”

Another  _ pink  _ against the window treated their mind to a headache like pulse. ‘I’m going to go outside and cool off,’ Frisk signed before they tugged on their winter coat.

“Alright dear, I think I’m going to get to cooking,” she rolled her sleeves up. Oh no, Mom was going to stress cook. As delicious of a fate as it was it normally resulted in a very long food run the next day trying to find host families for pastries. “Love you,” she hummed.

‘Love you too!’ They signed as loudly as they could muster.

The moment they opened the door the cold air blew a skin numbing breath in their face but they went out regardless. They had been so upset when they left city hall they hadn’t even noticed how thickly the snow had fallen.“Flowey!” They demanded as loudly as their voice dared without cracking.

“I’m r-r-r-right here.” He’d made a little nest of vines around himself in an effort to stave off the cold. Typically Frisk would feel sorry for him and try to find somewhere warmer to talk but not tonight. “It isn’t Aster’s fault.” His little face peaked out of the vines just enough for his beady black eyes to fix themselves on Frisk’s.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Flowey spared no detail explaining everything from the moment he started tossing bullets at the window all the way up to the police officer showing up. The entire while Frisk listened, trying desperately to piece together why this had even happened in the first place. ‘Those humans that attacked you…’

Flowey scoffed, “Just a bunch of punks.” The vines around him readjusted having grown stiff in the cold air. Frisk sighed, unzipped their coat and opened their arms, “Thank you!” He zipped straight into them to tuck his head inside the coat. Immediately the warmth the coat had provided seemed to dwindle out into the night air. Nestled so closely to them Frisk had to check that the poor plant’s petals weren’t actually made of ice. 

‘Why did you do it Flowey?’

His petals drooped, “Everyone else got to play with him. I wanted to too.” Frisk wasn’t sure what to say to that. There were plenty of reasons to not let the two interact, namely being everything that had just happened, or worse, but maybe they should have tried before Flowey took matter into his own stems. 

‘Why didn’t you ask me first?’ Flowey scoffed and Frisk puffed their cheeks at him.

“Frisk…” He hesitated shivering on their stem against the winter winds. “We’re still friends right?” The beady black eyes begged for forgiveness as if empathy and understanding were natural to the flower.

‘Of course.’ They signed resolutely. ‘But Flowey don’t do this. Please just talk to me first.’

“Yeah… I figured that’s what you would say.”

‘Well,’ they were genuinely curious, ‘what did you think of him?’

Flowey rolled his eyes, “He’s the type of idiot that falls asleep in the snow. He’s far too soft for this world.”

‘So you do like him?’

“Of course not! He has that dopey half awake expression all the time, his hands are just creepy, and have you seen his magic? No! You can have him!” Despite the obstinance they caught the way his beady black eyes rolled straight into the living room. “Frisk… in your adventures through the Underground did you ever hear of…” He shook his head, “never mind.”

Well that was a giant red flag, ‘What--’

“Just forget about it.”

‘You know I’m not going to.’

Flowey sighed, “Yeah. I know.” His petals shivered, “Look. I wanted to apologize before I left. You’re not going to see me for a while, it’s too stinkin’ cold!” 

‘Where do you go in the winter?’ They never had figured it out but since there weren’t any news stories for overgrown cities ravaged by vines or reports of talking yellow flowers they never pressed him for answers.

“Anywhere warmer than here.”

Flowey tilted his head up to them the petals tilting back softly as his face shifted to that of a young boss monster and Frisk couldn’t help but pat their stem lightly, ‘I’ll miss you.’

“Oh please, after what I just did you’ll be happy to see me go.”

‘Well,’ they trailed off.

“Hey!”

They chuckled, smiling down to the flower. There was some truth to the statement, they were angry with him but they just weren’t sure how to express it. No one had gotten hurt but there was still no reason for Flowey to have abducted Aster to play some simple little game. Maybe Toriel would know what to say, know how to scold the mischievous flower, but there was still so much guilt in their soul.

They fought desperately for a way to return the poor fallen prince to form but time and time again, the only way to gain everyone’s happiness was at the cost of Asriel’s. So many terrible, ugly, despicable deeds they had performed with this thought at the front of their mind but here they were… On the Surface in the happy ending but the one that made it possible was shuttering against them trapped in a form that destroyed emotions before they could even fester.

Those thoughts still burned in Frisk’s determined soul  anytime they saw him. The idea that somewhere out there was a way to save him but they had given up on finding it. This was just the ending they’d have to deal with. At least it resulted in the most smiles and this time Aster was here for it too. One more monster saved from the Underground.

‘You know, it’s warm inside,’ Frisk smiled as pleasantly as they could muster, ‘Asgore has some pots here and--’

“No.” Flowey declined flatly, “I’m not a house plant.”

‘You’re a ferocious wild flower?’ They cocked their eyebrow and Flowey actually laughed.

“Darn right I am!” He nodded then pulled away from Frisk, “Good luck Frisk.”

‘Stay warm Flowey,’ they stood back up giving the plant one last look before turning to the door.

“Frisk? Have you ever heard of Gaster?”

A haunched over faceless gray creature flashed in their mind as they turned back to the empty snowscape. ‘Only once,’ they signed to old man winter before they turned the door knob. 

The warmth of the house greeted them but they couldn’t appreciate it as their mind was buzzed with a trip to Hotland where they air had been stagnant and without temperature. Where the sloshing of magma, puffing of vents, and whirring of elevators were silenced. The world was sucked into a half state of nothingness in the wake of the gray not monster.

There had been others with the same stifling sensation but the faceless one was the only one that whispered the name Gaster. The haunting nature of the creatures, the strange presence they brought, whatever fate had befallen this Gaster character was probably for the best. 

After they hung up their coat and kicked off their boots they noticed the wonderful aromas wafting about in the entryway enticing them to make a beeline for the kitchen but a soft whimper stole their attention. Frisk poked their head into the darkened living room to see Aster sleeping with the blankets curled tightly into his fists. His big black eyes were scrunched so tightly they almost seemed to disappear against the white of his face.

Frisk gently coaxed his fingers to relax and smoothed out the blanket just the way Toriel did for them. “It’s okay,” they whispered until his features relaxed and his dreams seemed to grow more pleasant. After they let out a sigh to comfort themselves their soul felt more at ease than it had since before Sans had whisked them away that morning.

It had been a very long day.

“Mom?” They called from the kitchen entryway not at all surprised to see a multitude of different pastries at varying steps in the process spread across the counters and table. It was going to smell delicious in here tomorrow. Their stomach grumbled at the thought but they were far too tired to wait for the food to come out of the oven, “I think… I- I’m going to bed.”

“Alright dear,” her dress clothes were dusted with flour and seasonings; she hadn’t even bothered to put her apron on. She let out a weary breath as she crossed to place a kiss on the top of Frisk’s head, “ _ Flour _ you doing?”

A sympathy laugh escaped them before they could realize just how bad the pun was, ‘I’m okay.’ Their thoughts fell to Flowey, or more so to Asriel. There had been many timelines where Frisk told Toriel what happened to her son but none of them had ended well. A part of them wanted to tell her what had transpired, who had  _ actually _ freed them all from the Underground but they’d promised. 

‘Hey mom,’ they looked up to Toriel, ‘it wasn’t Aster’s fault.’

“I know dear, I should have warned him about that door, or given him a key, the poor dear was probably just trying to find help.”

That could have been it. They didn’t have to bring up the little yellow flower that just wanted to play with everyone’s new goopy friend but they didn’t want Mom’s late night cooking session to stretch into the early hours. Even if it was Sunday tomorrow she still needed sleep. ‘I met a monster in the Underground… A tiny yellow flower.’

“A yellow flower?”

‘I befriended them because they were really lonely,’ Frisk picked at their fingers before clenching their hands into fists, “I was all-- all that they had… But lately I’ve been t-too busy.” They sighed, ‘They just wanted someone to play with.’

“Why haven’t I heard of them before?”

‘Because they aren’t always very nice… and he’s really shy.’

“I see,” she had  _ that look _ the one parents got when they knew they weren’t getting the full story but she was too tired to drag this out any further. “Well, someday I would like to meet this flower friend of yours.” She carefully brushed Frisk’s hair with her claws, “But for now you look exhausted go get some sleep.”

‘Night mom.’

“Night Frisk.”

Wait. There was one more thing: ‘Mom?’ Toriel smiled softly with recognition. ‘Alphys figured out Aster’s phone.’

“Well she took her time,” she scoffed playfully.

‘Alphys thinks he has a connection to the Hotland Labs and that if we take him there she’ll be able to figure something out about his past.’ The thought hung between them like a heavy cloud that had made itself into fog. It wafted about the kitchen catching Toriel’s attention as her eyes scanned the room.

“Why don’t we get some sleep? We’ll discuss this with him tomorrow.” Her shoulders were squared and her chest tense which meant there was no room to argue. Frisk decided it best to play the obedient child and head to bed. 

The stairs were a difficult creature to scale they seemed to pull at Frisk’s feet like thick mud. By the time they made it to their room they swore they fell asleep before they landed on the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like the beginning of this update but I feel like it gets better as it goes on. I’m hoping the next one meets all of my standards ;) haha
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! See you next time!


	15. Like a Cinnabunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel’s cooking attracts a tired Aster to a midnight chat. Later Frisk follows through on their snow day promise to Aster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the Kudos last update! And of course the lovely comments :) Honestly the reception of this series just continues to floor me so thank you.
> 
> I did not get as much time to work on this chapter as I usually do and I apologize if it seems rougher than other chapters ^^’

The sanctity of the rooms serene nature was promptly ruined by a clamorous metallic sound from downstairs. Frisk took care to ignore it: rolling over to their stomach and curling their pillow to their chest. It was probably just Toriel still fast at work in kitchen. A soft light trickled into their room from under the door distracting them from their efforts. If it was still mom then the light would have already been on.

Suddenly they felt quite childish curling their toes against the sheets trying to become as small as possible. They hoped Toriel heard it too and would go down to investigate. Of course it could very well be Toriel, they reached for their phone charging on the side table. The light of the screen blinded their weary eyes, the white of the numbers was lost against the picture of them with the skeleton brothers. 

Their head rocked back as they sat up and rubbed at their eyes with acknowledgment they wouldn’t be able to fall back into a comfortable sleep until they knew. The phone informed them it was ‘too early to be awake o’ clock’ but at least it was still the weekend.

As ferocious as they were anyways the big white slippers they habitually stepped into didn’t help their threatening aura. Frisk crept down the stairs trying to get a peak of more than just the tall slender shadow that cut across the entryway. When they peered into the kitchen they found Aster with his not-knees curled to his chest as he nibbled at something out of a silver deep dish pan.

Big black tears were sitting in his eyes but they didn’t seem brave enough to fall down his smooth face. He reached back into the pan and pulled out a piece of bread. Something about seeing him eat felt a bit unnerving; it was just an unfamiliar sight. Flowey had mentioned coaxing Aster outside because he was hungry but he’d never mentioned or acted like he needed food before.

“Aster,” their quiet voice was barely louder than the flap of a butterfly wing but it was enough for Aster to toss the pan onto the table and hide the slice behind him. ‘You’re not--’

He wiped at his eyes with his shoulders, “Sorry I didn’t mean to I-- Um… I’m sorry!” His shoulders jerked up by his jaw as he slouched towards his knees.

‘It’s okay I’m not mad,’ Frisk soothed, ‘are you hungry?’ He nodded crisply. Frisk looked around the room spying CinnamonButterscotch Pie, fruit tarts, croissants with chocolate drizzled over the top of them, a batch of snickerdoodle cookies, and acknowledged Toriel had gone all out in her worry. Of all the food that was out though, why a loaf of bread?

Frisk peeked into the pan to see a few slices missing. They walked over to the fridge, grabbed a small container, and a knife then sat at the table with criss crossed legs. ‘I can make this even better!’

“How?” Aster blinked staring curiously at the container.

They popped off the lid, took the knife, and smeared the contents onto two separate slices. Frisk passed one to Aster who eyed it suspiciously, ‘It’s cinnamon butter.’

After a few more once overs he finally bit into the bread: the whites of his eyes widened like Sans’s eyelights before he hastily took another bite. “I like cinnamon butter,” he didn’t wait for the food to dissolve but he was polite enough to cover his mouth with his hand… a shame there was a hole in the center of it.

‘I thought you might!’

The pair fell into silence nibbling at their respective pieces of still warm bread which fought off the subtle chill of the house at night. Wind rattled the windows but never seemed to break the content atmosphere between them. “I woke up on the couch and it smelled really good…”

‘Yeah mom’s cooking is the best,’ Frisk nodded with sage like wisdom.

Aster smiled out of one side of his mouth, “I don’t know Grillby’s burger was really good.”

‘You went to Grillby’s?’ Flowey hadn’t mentioned that part.

He nodded, “It was a very good burger.”

Another lapse of silence as they returned their attention to the bread. Neither seemed to be firing on all cylinders since their minds lost to the early morning hours. Frisk’s taste buds were finally awake enough to acknowledge how tasty the bread was. Another perfect batch by master chef Toriel.

“These are some of the biggest mice I’ve ever seen,” the master chef’s voice singsonged from the entryway. Aster attempted to hide behind the measly scrap of bread that he had left but Frisk turned to face her earnestly. “Mind if I have a slice?”

Frisk offered one to her and she sat down in her usual chair her puffy purple robe cushioned her cheeks until she repositioned it. She declined the cinnamon butter insisting that was a poor choice for breakfast food but didn’t have an argument when Frisk asked if Cinnamon Butterscotch Pie was a part of a healthy start for the day. They shared a laugh but turned to Aster when he didn’t seem to have anything to add.

With the attention on him he squirmed in his chair, “I’m sorry I left I know that’s bad. But I didn’t want to! I told them--”

Toriel cupped her paw to her muzzle, “I’m not upset with you Aster. You’re right, you shouldn’t have left but I’m glad everything turned out alright.” She shook her head, “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been found by a less friendly member of the force.”

“Aster dear,” she reached out as if to hug him but hesitated dropping her arms, “I’m so happy you’re home safe and sound.”

He smiled fondly at that finally relaxing his shoulders, “I am home…” His fingers picked at each other swiftly, “No. Not yet.”

“I’m sorry?” Toriel tilted her head.

“I’ve been thinking about that word a lot lately,” Aster started setting his scrap of bread on the table to gesture while he spoke. “I would really like to… that is if you were okay with it,” his eyes were indecisive hesitating over any surface in their path, “I want…” 

He clutched his hands to his chest: “Frisk, Toriel… I really, really like being here!”

“I’m glad to hear it dear,” Toriel smiled straight up to her eyes.

Frisk smiled as well thinking of the ghost like monster they’d first met deep deep down in the Underground and how scared he was of everything. ‘We like having you here.’

Aster nodded shyly, “It makes me really happy to see you, to see the friends, the way the breeze feels, smells, fluffy touches, books… They all make me so happy.” He wiped at his eyes, “But I think I belong at my home.”

Toriel’s smile faltered on how far it wanted to fall until her eyes just seemed saddened by the effort, “And how does your home make you feel?”

The room focused on Aster as he sat back in his chair to think before the white of his eyes resolved themselves. “Home is safe, it’s comfortable, and it’s all I can remember.” Just the thought of Aster leaving left Frisk wishing they were still asleep. “I was wondering… if we could go back to the Underground sometime… and look for my door.”

His expression was grim pooling with shadows that scurried out of the light’s touch as if the weight of the task was truly an impossible one. Toriel and Frisk exchanged a nervous glance as they seemed to reach the same conclusion: everything was pointing them back to Mt.Ebott. 

Toriel placed her paw on his shoulder, “Of course we can dear.”

‘What about your pieces I--’ Frisk started ready to make an argument for him to stay but she put her hand up knowing full well where their determination layed.

“Thank you, you both have been so nice to me,” he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. “If I can’t find my home or if it doesn’t want me back… Would it be bad if I wanted to stay here?”

Before Toriel could say any sort of comfort Frisk flung off of their chair to wrap their arms around their goopy roomate. They felt him jerk away more than confused by the sudden movement but the back of the chair kept him in place. It took a moment but Aster placed his hands on their back and patted softly. “Of course you can Aster,” Toriel joined in on the group hug her big arms effortlessly encompassing both of them plus the chair.

She gave them both a tight squeeze before she “I think I have everything to make some cinnabunnies for breakfast… Would you two like to help?”

Didn’t they have enough pastries already? 

“Do they have to be bunnies?” Aster’s voice seemed to wander from him without permission. She pondered for a moment knowing that plain cinnamon rolls just weren’t as fun. 

“Kitties!” Frisk suggested and immediately they came to an agreeance.

Thus the three of them spent those sleeping hours of the morning in the kitchen making cinnakitties, laughing, and carrying on as if there wasn’t a care in the world. When at last Frisk returned to their bed it was with an easy smile and a warm stomach. They reached across their bed to unplug their phone from the nightstand. An image of a yellow lizard in a sailor suit glew under their thumb:  _ How about Saturday? _

* * *

 

  
Frisk attempted to bend properly in their excessive layers but as it was there was a great effort just to tug their winter coat on. Despite the fact that Aster was only wearing a pair of gloves and Toriel’s long purple jacket he looked considerably more uncomfortable than they did. He picked at the tips of his fingers, “Why am I wearing these?”

‘You don’t have to wear the gloves,’ they barely fit anyways, ‘but you should wear a coat at least.’ The gloves were thrown quickly to the ground with a distasteful glare and it seemed to satiate his annoyance considerably.

Toriel had ran to the store to replenish their groceries as well as run a few errands to get rid of some of the night’s baked goods. Monster food might not ever go bad but it was best shared fresh. 

The days were gone where monsters feared her as being unapproachable and all it took was some good food to do so.

Frisk jumped to grab two scarves off of the coat rack then quickly wrapped the green one around their throat to offer the red to Aster. Aster took it between his hands and his eyes wandered off to some section of space no scientist could name. They allotted him a moment but it didn’t seem to pass, ‘Aster?’

He pressed the red scarf into their arms, “Can I have the green one?”

‘Oh, sure,’ they uncoiled it from their neck and passed it to him.

All bundled up and warm they were just about ready. Frisk darted to the window and pulled back the curtain to spy across the white snowscape. Everything was quiet, not a single drift out of place. They pulled out their phone to double check that their adversaries had arrived and sure enough they had messaged their presence.

Operation snow day was a go. Their gloves were snug, their coat zipped, their scarf tied, and their soul determined! ‘Alright Aster it’s time to go to war!’ They punched the air.

Aster pulled back sharply, “We aren’t dressed for that.”

‘It’s a snowball fight!’ They explained the basics: how to pack a snowball and that the goal was to get hit as little as possible. It was obvious this was going to be a learn as you go type deal as the expression Aster was giving them didn’t instill confidence.

Frisk poked their head out the door, with the coast clear they escorted Aster outside who shielded his eyes from the bright white snow. It sparkled in the minimal light it was given making the world seem fresh and new. ‘Is this too much?’ Frisk had forgotten how bright the snow made the ground when it was fresh and smooth like this. He shook his head but his eyes were stuck in a squint.

 Before they were even off of the porch Frisk pushed Aster out of the way as a sheet of snow fell from the roof. Aster scrambled to find his footing while Frisk turned swiftly up to the attacker. “That was merely a warning shot!” Came the voice of a certain chipper skeleton.

‘That’s playing dirty!’ They signed indignantly up to the gutters.

“That is not the Papyrus way!” He chuckled, “Which is why it was a warning shot only!”

“Hello Papyrus!” Aster waved up to their adversary.

Papyrus laughed as he walked down to the snow below as if there was a flight of stairs between the gutters and the ground, “Good afternoon Aster,” he smiled. “What did you think of the city?”

“Oh,” Aster looked down to the snow, “I did not care for it.”

“You wouldn’t be the first monster! In fact Sans--” A snowball hit Papyrus’s hip, “We are on the same team!” He turned to the side of the house where Sans was grinning with his hands tight in his pockets.

“Oh, I thought we were playing with  _ snow _ man’s land rules,” Sans shrugged with a wink.

“No!” Papyrus stomped, “You exhausted your snow puns on the drive over!” Sans shook his head walking towards the back of the house, “Hey! I’m talking to you!” Papyrus stormed after his brother leaving Aster and Frisk at the front porch.

This felt so familiar, the pair bickering and then storming off, though typically Sans would linger around to say something else: “Hey.” Frisk jumped out of their skin as a voice yawned from behind them. “My brother is super excited for this so… just be prepared.”

This was a case of deja vu they weren’t prepared for. They gestured for Aster to follow them knowing Sans wouldn’t move until they left but Aster kept giving glances back to him expecting him to follow.

The backyard was the definition of a beautiful mess. Everywhere you looked was a dazzling tower made of snow with imprints of varying locations in the Underground. Each had its’ own layout of windows and stairs to make every fortress unique. A snow Papyrus stood proudly in the middle of their battleground with a smile that both challenged and mocked them.

Aster stepped forward with a look of utter wonderment as he took in all of the pristine sculptures. “Sans… no…” He focused his black eyes which almost merged from his concentration, “Papyrus these are amazing!”

“Thank you! Snow sculpting is one of my many talents,” Papyrus singsonged. “As is winning snowball fights!”

‘Not this time Papyrus,’ Frisk jeered in delight. After a challenge filled glare they claimed their forts: Team Skelebros stole the Snowdin base, largely because Sans was already slumbering inside it, and Team Determination fled to the Waterfall base. Papyrus had taken the liberty of packing a few free snowballs which Frisk was grateful for. They tried a few times to show Aster how to pack a nice and tight projectile but he tended to crush them in his boney grip.

The first attack was launched by Team Skelebros sailing far over head and smacking against the waterfall behind them. It was their call to action and Frisk was quick to launch their demonstration across the way only for it to smack against the Snowdin sign in front of them.  _ A little bit harder _ , Frisk determined as they scooped up another ball.

It began to snow well packed orbs as Papyrus and Frisk went to town trying desperately to make an impact. Aster wasn’t the biggest help since his attacks barely managed to make it outside of the fort falling helplessly on the other side. Still, he seemed to be having fun with it rather effortlessly dodging some attacks Frisk was uncertain as to how. Plus he was a bigger help than Sans who was resting against the Grillby’s sign.

Eventually it became obvious that hiding behind their well crafted, though quickly faltering, forts would provide little in the form of real action. Frisk lead the assault shoving as many ammunitions under one arm as they could before they charged forward bravely laughing in delight as they were pelted with Papyrus’s attacks but they found just as many of their own landing true.

Papyrus leapt over the Snowdin sign to launch a snowball straight through the air at such a speed Aster had no hope of dodging it despite Frisk’s warning. Somehow he managed to pivot quick enough to avoid it. Frisk made note that they were underestimating their goopy roommate. 

They weren’t the only one impressed. As close as they were to the fort they could see Sans’s eyes suddenly take a focus on him. One of their twin telepathy conversations later and their target changed.

Aster’s sockets narrowed as he recognized the challenge dodging what he could but preferring to deflect with a single black bone bullet that flung ooze about as it zipped in front of him. A single snowball charged with blue magic made it through his agile defenses and pelted against his shoulder. For a moment everything went silent as they waited for his reaction but it seemed unnecessary as he simply smiled and brushed it off. 

It was back on! Frisk launched a ball directly into Papyrus’s chest and the two kept going at point blank range until Frisk’s stocking cap was drenched. They pressed through the cold until they managed to sway Papyrus against Sans. A pair of snowballs smacked against his chest receiving a sigh from the smaller skeleton.

“Oh my,” Toriel’s ears were perked as she took in the chaos of the backyard.

“Care to join in the battle Lady Toriel?” Papyrus laughed as he scraped snow out of his socket.

“Have you been out here the whole day?” Toriel looked over the remains of the Snowdin and Waterfall forts, along with the briefly used New Home and Ruins bases, then her eyes fell to the untouched Hotland fortress.

Frisk tilted their head to the sky a bit surprised to see the sun already staining the sky with colors. It was that time of year again where the night ate away at the day so early it felt like the sun didn’t have a chance to shine. Now that they had allowed themselves some pause they realized how cold they felt. ‘Not  _ all _ day,’ Frisk assured their mother.

“Oh dear,” Toriel folded her arms, “let's get you into some dry clothes for now. Then how about some star gazing afterwards?”

Aster’s face lit up just as much as Frisk’s, “Yes!” They declared in unison.

“Boys would you like to stick around? I promise it will be an  _ out of this world, _ ” she winked knowing full well what she had just done.

“Only on the grounds there will be none of your patent pending tom foolery,” Papyrus wagered.

“Fair enough,” she smiled. “Sans?”

“Eh, Paps is my ride so I guess I’ll stick around,” he shoved his hands in his pockets.

With the promise of one last snow filled memory Frisk dashed inside to change their clothes. Meanwhile Toriel made quick work filling up mugs with hot cocoa and plating some Butterscotch Cinnamon Pie that she warmed up lightly with fire magic. The pair returned outside pleased to see Aster speaking amicably with the brothers with a wide smile. If Frisk hadn’t had that conversation with Sans they wouldn’t have ever guessed he was uncertain about Aster’s presence. In fact, he seemed strangely at ease.

Frisk and Toriel unfolded a purple flannel blanket that they all piled on top of more than happy to feel the warmth of the ceramic mug. They set the pie plates in front of them as they turned their eyes skyward. It was still early but there were so many stars already twinkling in the heavens above them like little guiding lights. The five of them laid shoulder to shoulder with Aster in the middle. 

“Aster you see that one?” Sans traced a constellation out with his finger tip a few times.

Aster hummed, “The hexagon with arms?”

Papyrus chuckled softly and even Sans snorted, “Yeah, that one. That’s the Phoenix: a monster that’s not around anymore. They’ve got a pretty cool lore though.”

He tilted his head to look at Sans, “What is it?”

“They were a bird like monster that couldn’t die,” he folded his arms behind him, “they’d just burn up and be born again from the ashes.”

“Were they the same monster afterwards?”

Sans gave him a sideways glance, “I mean they were still a bird I assume. Tori? You ever meet a phoenix?”

Toriel quickly finished the bite of pie she was on her muzzle already sprinkled with crumbs, “Phoenix weren’t like the monsters of the Underground. They were more like the beasts of the land than monsters, that being said, they were very intelligent and the messenger of choice for the Dreemurr family.”

“When they came back they always seemed to recognize their owners but whether they were the same bird or not I was not acquainted with any to know.”

Aster traced the constellation like Sans had with the edge of his fingertip before he let it fall heavily back atop him with a reserved smile. 

“Do you know the constellation Lepus?” Sans prompted but Aster shook his head. “It’s the rabbit.” Aster gasped excitedly scanning the sky above for anything resembling a bunny.

“It’s the wrong time of year for it though, I think that one's January?” He tilted his eyelights up as if he had a search engine hidden at the top of his sockets, “Yeah,” he confirmed.

He sat up to look at Sans properly, “Will you show it to me then?”

There was a touch of sadness in Sans’s sockets as he stared into Aster’s eyes, “Sure. You’ll still be around then right?”

Immediately Aster’s shoulders sunk, ‘Maybe,’ he signed solemnly. ‘We’re going to look for my home Saturday with Dr.Alphys…’ He laid back down resting his hands around his mug that he set atop his chest.

“This one,” Papyrus traced out a circle of stars that had two off branching lines, “is the Fluffy Bunny constellation! It is one of the many Great Constellations founded by yours truly!” Aster’s smile returned as Papyrus continued describing all of the rarest Constellations that he had discovered on his own. 

It seemed anything and everything could make their way up into the heavens above: a very well behaved dog that wasn’t annoying in the least, a couple of different bones with fancy titles, great heroes that obviously were legends and not any of his friends, and a diamond shaped one named Salvation. Apparently it was the first one he found after stepping foot on the Surface. 

Frisk stared at that one a while filling in the shape with a bright yellow. Salvation. It looked just like the save points they used in the Underground but there was no way for Papyrus to know that.

“And that’s the Great Mage,” Papyrus declared wistfully, “a skeleton with all sorts of colorful magic.” His voice trailed off before his usual excited tangent of exactly how he came up with the shape or character but his jaw clicked together and made no effort to move. Something in his sockets hurt to look at, the feeling in them foreign for the Mascot of Monsterdom.

“That’s a new one bro,” Sans looked back into the all consuming darkness above.

“Yeah… I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

“Want me to add it to the list?” Sans studied his brother’s face with mild concern.

Papyrus rested his arm across his sockets, “Maybe later.”

“Got it, you’re not ready to  _ comet _ to it yet,” Sans winked.

“Sans.”

“I suppose there’s still  _ space _ for improvement.” Toriel started laughing at that one and even Frisk caught themselves snickering.

“I’m warning you.”

“ _ Star  _ you now?” Sans smiled as widely as Papyrus frowned, “You’ll get over it  _ lunar  _ or later.”

“We were having a nice moment!” Papyrus jumped to his feet in the way only Papyrus could. It never seemed like he got up only that he had always been standing. He stomped up towards the house calling back dramatically: “A Galaxy between us wouldn’t be enough space to recover from this betrayal.”

Sans chuckled then rolled onto his side, “I’ll see you guys in a minute.” He shuffled after his brother taking his own sweet time by barely picking his feet up over the snow.

Toriel and Frisk were ripe with laughter practically rolling in it until they subsided in wheezing gasps that finally gave Aster’s quiet laugh a chance to shine through. “They are such good boys,” he practically giggled his fingers snagged tightly over his mouth.

“They have been through a lot,” Toriel sat up to watch as the skeleton brothers disappeared around the front of the house. “I would never expect children to endure as they have but they both seem to have finally adjusted.”

Aster sat up to follow Toriel’s gaze to the house black tears festering in the base of his eyes, “They’ve been hurt?”

“You could say that.” 

Aster rested his head atop the bend of his form then wrapped his arms around them to form a neat little ball. Neither Toriel nor Frisk dared to disturb the thoughts that were cultivating in the air just in front of his eyes. There was always something almost recognizable between the three but it was impossible to tell what shape that something was. Every Inch of him was so still he seemed to be a part of the landscape.

Toriel rose to her feet, “I’m going to start dinner. Please come in before it gets much colder.” She ruffled the hair on the top of Frisk’s head before she smoothed it out, “My little snow bunnies.

Frisk smiled widely as she started to walk away.

There was a picture in their room of a monster with hands just like Aster, who wore a red scarf like Papyrus’s, and smiled with the same tenacity Sans did now. It was far too many coincidences to not mean  _ something _ but the fact remained he didn’t look like the monster in the picture and he certainly didn’t act like he had ever been so close to them to wrap his arms over the pair. “Frisk,” they almost didn’t hear his soft voice, “thank you for giving them the sky.” He stood up with a bit of a wobble but his focused expression never dropped, “They deserve it.”

Frisk wrapped their fingers around his and squeezed lightly he smiled fondly down to them before helping them to their feet. ‘You deserve the sky too Aster.’ He tilted his head as if he didn’t believe them, ‘You do.’

It was only now as they made their way inside that Frisk realized how sore their arms and legs were from the overly active snowball fight. So much fun was had though it was hard not to appreciate the tinges of joint pain as a souvenir of sorts. Frisk helped Aster out of his scarf and jacket while the sound of the brothers’ antagonizing pestering of one another came from the kitchen. The soft scent of soon to be cooked food teased an idea of what dinner might be.

“Oh Aster, I nearly forgot,” Toriel beckoned from the kitchen. Aster joined her by the sink where she had just finished cleaning off vegetables. She held her paw out to him something secured within it. He looked over her extended paw curiously before he slowly unfurled his fingers and held them under hers.

Aster winced as something small was dropped into his fingers, he turned it over many times as the room fell completely silent. “It’s a key,” he stated simply.

Toriel chuckled, “It’s the key to a home that’s not going to disappear anytime soon.” He held it close to his chest with a shy little grin. “Even if we do find your door I want you to know that you’ll always have a place here.”

‘With us,’ Frisk signed gesturing to all of those in attendance: Papyrus struck a pose while Sans shoved his hands in his pockets his eyelights pointing away from them.

A soft whimper of a hiccup escaped from Aster before black tears fell heavily down his face. “What’s the matter dear?” Toriel cooed, “Was it too much?”

“I,” he inhaled sharply, “I feel like a cinnabunny!”

To anyone else the expression might seem odd: how did one feel like a pastry? But they understood the full weight of such a phrase and as Frisk looked around the room it seemed everyone felt like a cinnabunny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That “like a cinabunny” line has been on the to do list for a long time and it certainly had to happen before their Hotlands trip... which will be the next update! I’m super nervous for it but I’m going to do my best!
> 
> We’re getting to the point where Aster is going to take over as our main perspective as just a bit of warning.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


	16. Heat Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they head to Waterfall to look for Aster’s door they decide to swing by the labs to test Alphys’s theory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it took so long to respond to the comments last week it has been rather ridiculously busy the last week or so. I really do appreciate every comment and kudos this, or other, fics receive it can really turn a messy day around! So thank you!

Frisk paused suddenly in front of him and he couldn’t stop himself from bumping into them. Was Hotlands like this the first time they came through?

The heat was just about unbearable as it attacked every inch of him with the desire to curl up in a ball and sleep. His eyes watered as waves flitted about in the air just out of reach, not that he wanted to touch them since they probably hurt. He clung to Frisk’s heels not wishing to even give himself the opportunity to get lost in such a place. There was something about the air here that told him there was nothing to be afraid of but the broken remains of puzzles, vents, and abandoned residencies tried to convince him otherwise.

Frisk and Alphys didn’t seem to mind at all chatting away as they made their way to a place called The Lab. His door wasn’t at The Lab his door was in Waterfall but they all insisted it would just be a short detour. The word Lab was inviting to him and the idea of going was exciting but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t like having to wait.

A large silver box appeared in the distance cutting harshly against the natural orange red stones around it. He held his breath, “What’s that?” He asked to anyone who would listen.

“Those are the Labs,” Toriel breathed heavily. She looked completely uncomfortable: her fur was matting together in places, her eyes were half lidded, and her steps lacked any of her usual poise. At least he wasn’t the only one.

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side, “Shouldn’t it be bigger?” Huge even. The front of the building should have extended almost all the way to the fork in the road which lead to… the river. He stretched as far up as he could manage to see the dark blue strip. How did he know that? A humm sang out from him as he recalled having taken the River Person’s boat to here with Frisk. 

That was so long ago. He hardly remembered seeing any of this! Suddenly the rippling heat was a distant memory as he took in the way the ceiling buckled and swayed above them, the tiny cracks that showed a world just outside the caves, and the pooling pits of magma. There was a use for that. The heat around here… He spun a tight circle careful to keep track of the group, the heat was useful for something. 

“A-aster?” Alphys called standing in front of the silver box, “Something c-catch you’re attention?”

‘Oh, no,’ he signed slowly, ‘it’s just… really hot.’

‘Well they do call it Hotlands!’ Frisk smiled from ear to ear.

“Yes, another truly creative name,” Toriel sighed, she really didn’t seem to like Hotland at all.

“Just let us k-know if anything seems f-familiar okay? Even if it’s just… I don’t know a feeling?” Alphys stammered while she retrieved the keycard from her inventory. 

They kept telling him that, what was he supposed to be doing here? He flinched and clung to Toriel’s sleeve as the door disappeared in front of them. A wave of cool air from inside attempted an assault on the heat but it barely put up a fight. The inside was so dark anything past the entryway was hidden away. Alphys and Frisk stepped inside without a single complaint but Toriel lingered with him taking his hand in her paw and leading him inside.

He was quite content with his hand in hers especially when she seemed so much more at ease now that they were inside. The door reappeared behind him and he squeezed her paw tight. “Alphys? The lights please?” Toriel asked softly.

“Right, right, working on that…” The room lit up with the ferocity of the midday sun, “Sorry, I uh, well, just let me,” the lights dimmed to a much more tolerable level but it still took his eyes a moment to adjust. The room was huge in every direction, the walls were a soft green color, and the floor was tiled with a repeating pattern of squares. It looked very clean but that was probably because the only thing in the room was a giant computer.

The whole place was very impressive but did they really go so far out of the way to show him this? Sure, it was neat, but he wanted to find his door. A small humming sound permeated the air as the computer turned on and with it the stairs began to move. He wandered over to the moving staircase to watch as they disappeared into the floor.

Intrigued, he crouched down and tapped each step just before it sunk into the floor. Stairs were terrible but with this he wouldn’t have to deal with them. Still, something about the way they disappeared seemed suspicious. “These are new,” he finally decided on, “I haven’t seen them before.”

“Oh,” Alphys smiled from in front of the computer, “yes, I installed them when I first moved in here.” She rubbed the back of her frills, “My stubby legs don’t get along with stairs too well.”

Aster nodded his approval before he went back to watching the stairs. They didn’t seem that magical to him, in fact, they seemed practical. Did they fold flat when they went under? They had to be on a band of some sort. He scrunched his features trying to imagine how they worked but he really didn’t have a mind for much more than basic stitch work. Which was a shame because these would be very nice to have in the house.

Frisk came over to watch the steps with him. They stood for a long time just picking a step higher on the case to follow before it disapeared. Eventually Aster started doing the same trying to pick the same step to follow down. ‘There’s more than moving stairs to see,’ Frisk informed him.

‘I’m quite alright with this,’ his mind was still puzzling away at how to make such a thing. What made them pop up like that?

‘Maybe you’ll find something else you like?’ Frisk tried. It was obvious they were wanting him to do something else so he reluctantly stood back up. 

Alphys inserted a black stick into the side of a box by the computer. The screen flickered a few times before it went black for just a few seconds until chunky white letters filled the screen with the word PASSWORD. “Th-this is the original programs and interface that b-belonged to th-this old computer. I tried for months to unlock it b-but after testing every p-possible combination I couldn’t ever gain access. That is I couldn’t use it.”

The screen didn’t have Aster’s attention but the large hole in the wall did. There wasn’t a lot of space for something to go back there but it was definitely broken. Maybe something hit it? “Aster, are you listening?”

‘No,’ he answered honestly unsure as to who even asked him that. Everything about him felt charged with something? He couldn’t quite figure out how to describe it. Something told him to leave but the walls called to him. He pressed his hand to the painted wall as a feeling as warm as it was cold crept against him like an affectionate cat.   

“Dear, you seem distracted is something bothering you?” Toriel put her paw on his shoulder.

He shook his head quickly, ‘I don’t think so. This place… just isn’t like home at all.’

“I promise, you behave well for Dr.Alphys and we’ll go to Waterfall, okay?”

“Maybe we should have gone there f-first,” Alphys tried.

‘No, we had to come here first,’ Frisk’s shoulders fell heavily as they looked back at the screen, ‘just in case.’ 

Frisk didn’t want him to go home. They’d said as much last night when they came into his room well past time for them to have fallen asleep. He wasn't sure what to say since he owed Frisk so much, and hated to see them sad, but he needed to find his door. Home was where he belonged… Even if it wasn’t as happy.

‘What do you need me to do?’ Aster signed hastily trying to cover up that he had spaced out again.

“Just um, well you know how you turned on my e-equipment when we met? I just uh, was wondering, if maybe, you could do that for this computer?” Her fingers fought against each other as she spoke in some half hearted attempt at Hands.

He looked the computer over, ‘Was this always here?’ Even before she answered he somehow knew what it would be. It should have been somewhere darker with fickle lighting but how did he know that? No. He didn’t know that he’d never been here it was just… a feeling. His eyes darted over to Alphys, what were they doing here? Why were they waiting for him to have feelings? Were they all keeping something from him? Why would they do that? He leaned heavily against the desk rubbing his eyes in frustration. ‘Can I sit?’

“Oh sure,” Alphys slid out of the chair and displayed it to him.

 _Something about this place is very wrong,_ he thought as he sat. A quiet chill fended off the last of his warmth as he stared at his reflection in the screen. It was such an old looking computer nothing at all like the silver one Toriel and Frisk shared. Now, how to turn it on? 

He slid his finger under the keyboard, poked the letter ‘G’, then shot out of the chair sending the chair rolling across the floor. The screen was filled with hands, flags, bombs, and a cross that spelled out the word ‘WELCOME’ so plainly he didn’t even need to think on how to read it.

“H-how did you-- It was a sixteen digit code!” Alphys’s voice was full of wonderment but Aster wanted nothing to do with it. 

“Th-there’s,” his voice stuck in his throat painfully, he wasn’t supposed to talk here, ‘a switch on the back.’ 

Alphys turned the keyboard over and felt around until she found the little circle. “How did you know that!?” 

Was she upset with him? He pulled his shoulders up to his jaw stepping further away from the computer screen. That was just how it worked. Just like the machines she brought they turned on when you told them to. It wasn’t anything special but now Toriel was looking at him with the same expression as Alphys. A pit formed in his core, heavy and ugly, as he was forced to question himself again.

“Well he did it, now would you mind explaining why?” Toriel put her reading glasses on to better squint at the screen.

“This is e-every file that was on the computer when I became the Royal Scientist,” Alphys opened a folder, “I noticed the coding on the phone was the same distinct pattern as the computer here. S-so somewhere on this computer is who you were Aster!”

He opened his mouth but not even a whisper of the ‘oh’ he intended to say escaped him. They were going to find out he wasn’t good. Somewhere on that device was a monster he was very quickly realizing he didn’t want to remember. 

‘Hey mom I’m going to show Aster the rest of the labs,’ Frisk signed, ‘call me if you find anything.’

The rest of The Labs? So there was more. Frisk wrapped their fingers between his, “You don’t n-need to look s-so sorry.” He pursed his lips together tightly as Frisk lead them to a door with a little Alphys beside it. They found themselves in a tiny room with buttons in the back, Frisk pressed one and the room shook. ‘This is an E-L-E-V-A-T-O-R it’s a room that will take us down to the floor below then back up.’

This was more familiar to him then the stairs at least, he sat down as the whirring sound attempted to comfort him. ‘Are you okay?’ Frisk crouched beside him, ‘You’ve been off since we got here.’

He shook his head solemnly.

‘Is there a reason you’re not talking?’

It was obvious Frisk didn't believe him when he signed ‘no’ up to them. ‘What about you?’ Frisk could talk but they prefered to sign. That’s all it was he just preferred to sign here. ‘Why don’t you talk?’

Frisk’s bangs fell in front of their face masking their narrow eyes, ‘Children are meant to be seen. Not heard.’ They answered simply devoid of emotion, ‘So, why aren’t you talking?’

He hadn’t ever seen Frisk like that, he made a mental note not to bring that up again, ‘I’m not supposed to here.’

‘Why not?’ 

Aster shrugged as the door opened and he struggled to pull himself off of the ground, ‘It’s just a feeling.’ He clasped his hands around his midsection as the dingy blue green walls surrounded them. ‘Frisk,’ they turned their attention to him, ‘I’m scared.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean, my first trip to the labs I was pretty scared too. Not at first but… well, at least you won’t have to deal with the amalgamates… Except for ReaperBird they’re still down here. Don’t worry though,’ they smiled in such a way his nerves managed to subside a bit, ‘I know how to deal with them!’

‘That is very good,’ the hallway they were walking down seemed to go on forever, large black screens displayed nothing at all but he couldn’t help but feel there should be a door right about here. He touched the wall just as the hallway bent. There should be a door here that lead to a well kept office where the only thing out of place was a basket of loose yarn that had once been balls. He reached for a handle that didn’t exist to a door that wasn’t there. It was so plain in his head, so perfect he couldn’t believe that it wasn’t real.

‘I’m not scared about um,’ he was trying to remember the name the signs had been scythe crow? Scythe bird?, ‘them.’

‘What then?’

His eyes ran from the ceiling, down along the wall, and across the floor tracing the seams as if at any moment they could collapse on him. ‘This place wants to eat me,’ he pulled his hands up to his chest.

For a moment he feared Frisk was going to laugh at him but they simply knit their brows together, ‘What do you mean?’

What did he mean? ‘I… I don’t want to be anyone else.’ That was right. He didn’t want to be anyone but him. All of the pieces were a part of a monster no one seemed to remember, not even himself. There was a looming presence all around him of a monster worth being forgotten and the idea that he was that monster made his chest hurt. 

‘If I find my pieces, will I still be me?’ His hands bobbed in awkwardly heavy handed signs.

Frisk went quiet to take careful consideration of their words, ‘I don’t know.’ His shoulders dropped and he had to lean against the wall to stop the rest of him from following suit. ‘Hey, I know you were a good monster,’ Frisk assured him.

‘How?’ 

‘Because I don’t know any dastardly villains that melt at the sight of anything bunny related like you do,’ they poked his middle and he couldn’t help but smile. Frisk was a good kid. Not that he knew any other kids but he could tell they were one of the better ones. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders with just enough of a crouch to do so comfortably. “Aster?”

He pulled away just enough to sign, ‘Thank you Frisk. For taking me to the Surface, for letting me meet the friends, it made me really happy.’

Their tiny maroon eyes were searching for something in his but they gave up on their search to hug him again. “If you… f-find your door, are you, g-going to be able to come back?”

It took a bit of searching for his voice to gain the nerve necessary to form but he didn’t dare break contact, “I don’t know.” They squeezed him tighter. 

There was a dangerous warmth inside of him and the idea that he was needed festered in his mind. His chest compressed as a laugh he shared with just himself. It was a terrifying feeling but he couldn’t help but feel he wanted more of it. 

Frisk squeezed him one more time before they let go just enough to grab his hand, “So is this place f-familiar to you?” With their free hand they wiped their eyes.

“I think so,” he whispered and his voice seemed to push back the clawing feeling the shadowed hall granted him.

‘Really? Anything in particular?’ Their round face flourished with color and excitement that Aster didn’t quite share.

‘Everything… and nothing?’ They cut around the corner to approach the next room, ‘I can’t explain it but I feel like I’m here.’

‘You’re here?’ Frisk paused but Aster didn’t notice until he was several paces ahead.

‘Somewhere, I think--’ His signs were cut off abruptly as the lights flickered pitifully before they gave out entirely accompanied by the door slamming shut behind him. “Frisk?” He called with a whimper. The doors had square windows but lacked door knobs. His hands squirmed to find something to grip against but found nothing. 

“Don’t, don’t go a-anywhere! I’m gonna go get Alphys,” Frisk stated calmly.

He drew his fingers into his empty palms, ‘O-K.’ The pitter-patter of Frisk’s run echoed through the dark hallway growing further and further away until they vanished completely.

Even with the overhead lights out there was just a soft enough glow to illuminate the objects in the room around him. There were several beds side by side in rows and  two empty doorways at the opposite corner and he wondered briefly where they lead.

Stay here. Stay here. He began to pace across the long room, back and forth, had he ever paced before? Maybe. Something about it was soothing. His base didn’t make a satisfying clicking sound but he could imagine it plainly. Snazzy black dress shoes that made a soothing click, click, click, with every step.

Frisk was taking a long time. Too long. How were they going to get back up without the elevator? His pacing quickened. He froze abruptly, there was a set of stairs. In the same room as the elevator but he knew he hadn’t seen them so why was he so sure? Out of frustration he flopped atop the nearest bed.

The crunchy sound of the mattress, the cheap sheets, the rails, sent a fit of agitation across his shoulders and back. It was a bed though… and he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere. He fluffed the pillow and curled up on top of the sheets. For a fearful moment he wondered if he’d wake up if he fell asleep here but something decided he didn’t need the answer.

A cold shiver ran along his arms as the sheets moved from under him. Cautiously he turned to see an indistinct white figure standing over him. In a fit of panic he fell out the other side of the bed with the sheets caught around the base of his form. The intruder seemed equally terrified judging by the way it hid behind the headboard just barely poking up enough to look at him.

They stared at each other for so long Aster began to recognize a shape to whatever it was. He pressed himself off of the ground and stood up. It straightened itself up as well. The figure narrowed pinching a bit dramatically at the waist, the top of it rounded until it very obviously had a head, across its’ shoulders was a mass that fell down its form like a scarf. For some reason he was reminded of Papyrus. Aster and it were the same height made all the more obvious when they removed the bed from in between them.

‘Hello?’ Aster asked softly. Long, thin, claw like fingers waved back broadly. ‘Who are you?’ Was this the whatever bird Frisk had mentioned earlier? It didn’t look like a bird at all. It straightened it’s posture, tilted its head to the side curious of something Aster couldn’t figure out. He took a step back, ‘Can I help you?’

It gestured for him to follow but Aster held his place, ‘I’m waiting for Frisk.’ 

The white figure held its’ fingers to the side to relay the sign for ‘no.’

‘Yes I am I said I would--’

‘Looking for you,’ it signed pointedly.

He shifted, ‘Well, yes… that too.’ The figure turned and made its’ way through the north doorway. Aster rubbed his arms, he should stay here, wait for Frisk, he said he wasn’t going to wander off anymore but something about the figure had his attention. It felt eerily familiar, maybe they had been friends once? If someone remembered him then he could find pieces just like Frisk wanted. 

 _Maybe then_ , he picked at his fingers, maybe then he would feel better about staying here. Which would make Frisk even happier! With his resolve solidified he followed the figure into a long hallway. 

There wasn’t anything of note and the stranger didn’t seem to give anything pause. What were they? A ghost? He hadn’t seen one before to know for sure but that was the only thing that came to mind. The way it moved seemed to imitate his own despite the long spindly legs it possessed.

A door. Aster paused in the middle of the hallway, there should be a door here. He pressed his fingers to the wall and shut his eyes. A room with a wheelable dry erase board, a book shelf on the right hand wall, and a few shelves along the floor. There was a desk, worn and abused, from the surface with drawers on both sides, and picture frame on the corner. What was the picture of? He shook his head as the only thing that came to mind was the phrase _Don’t Forget._

Small holes lined the walls from where something bad had happened but he didn’t know what. The door should just slide open, it should just know he was there and open for him but it didn’t. There wasn’t a metallic door here.

Overall, it seemed a poor choice for an office space: there were no windows, and it was so far away from the rest of The Labs but there weren’t magic stairs then and it was close to something really important.

There wasn’t a door here. There wasn’t an office here. This was a wall painted the same ugly green as the rest of the labs. He removed his hand from it to wring his arm instead, he was losing touch. There were things in his head that weren’t real. Where was he? This wasn’t home but he ached for it in the same way and it felt just as unreal.

The specter tilted its’ head from the far end of the hallway which was exactly twenty paces from the not door. Aster knew that without making a single movement. The important room was behind it and at this point he had no choice but to follow.

A terrible skull loomed over a pitch black pit in the dark green room. The wide sockets empty of any expression glaring with a sinister intent down to Aster. He wasn’t afraid of the device but something in him began to ache. His long fingers coiled tight over his chest as it rose and fell with every attempt at breath. Cautiously, he looked over the edge of the pit below before a shiver ran across every ounce of his dark as pitch form and encouraged him back against the wall.

 “That’s mine,” he whispered to the shaped space beside him. “I was here.” His tour guide nodded seemingly looking up to it as well. “Do you know me?”

Its’ shoulders moved to square even with his own. It held two fingers straight out on each hand to the right of his form before it crossed them over to the left. Aster shook his head trying to piece together what it was signing, “Ready?” he tried which received a nod.

Ready? Aster looked up to the mechanized skull, ready for what? He looked down the hall they’d come from and the one he’d yet to enter. With utmost certainty he knew the room ahead to be cold with a tendency to run darker than the others. It was for important things, angry things, that needed to be kept safe. Without much thought of his own he found his hand coiled lightly as if holding something smooth and cylindrical and... red. He could almost see it in his hand and he knew it came from the machine but what was it?

It signed the question to him again and he didn’t know how to answer it. “Are you a piece?” It dropped its’ fist. “Oh.” So this thing was what he’d been feeling since he came down here, this was what wanted to swallow him whole, this was what wanted to change him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I am.” He rubbed his arm, “I’m scared…” He admitted more to himself than the expressionless entity beside him.

The sheet of white raised its’ hand and placed it gently on his shoulder, the gesture was comforting but it was met with a distinctly sharp cold. Long black drips ran from his shoulder down his form. The drips grew larger and more frequent falling heavier until it collected like hot tar. It felt like a dream, surely that wasn’t what he thought it was, that wasn’t _him_.

But it was.

When the whatever it was lifted its’ hand it left behind a spot of a dingy gray material. “What did you do?” He asked wide eyed his voice a mere squeak as his hands clammered to reshape himself. The cold goop wormed through his fingers as he tried frantically to stop the drips but now his entire shoulder was bare. “What did you do!?” 

It spread its arms wide and took a single step forward, Aster tried to get away from it but there was something wrong about the ground. Something smaller than he was accustomed supported him and it seemed uncertain as to how to step around the puddle below. He slipped and his once host caught him helped steady him against the wall, as its’ own body diminished from white to gray, blurring further and further, until it was nothing more than a thought.

Aster clenched his hand over his brow, even that felt different, more defined. Everything felt heavy as globs of his form drained away from him staining the floor and making it impossible to hold his footing. He slipped. A terrifying sickness filled him as he squished against the black slime on the floor. “Help! Please,” he shouted as loud as he could muster. 

His elbow wedged itself against the floor as he struggled to stand on two gangly legs only to fall against the tile once more. Frisk tore open the door, they were prepared for something else though, their eyes widened in terror as they took in the sorry sight of him.

“Help?” He asked softly before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew boy am I right? I’m still uncertain if I managed to describe the change right but if it’s messy it will get cleared up in the next update.
> 
> I don’t recall if it was a comment or if I had mentioned it in one of these notes but the first time I watched someone play Undertale a friend had told me about “Doctor Gaster who was scattered through time and space”. When it got to the true labs and that white entity tucks you into bed my knee jerk reaction was that was a scattered piece of Gaster. I liked the idea well enough I made sure Gaster’s first truly impulsive fatherly gesture was tucking Sans into bed ^^
> 
> When I originally blocked this story out it was supposed to be eighteen chapters now it looks like we hit the halfway point last update o.o whoops ^^’ I hope you continue to enjoy!


	17. Where is the Snooze Button?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster wakes up to a room of far too curious of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness guess! We broke a thousand views AND one hundred comments (one of which I still need to reply to)! Thank you very much!

They were arguing. That was the idea that he got from the darkness he found himself in. The voices were clear, and he understood them, just to forget a second later. He didn’t feel like he was asleep but he certainly wasn’t awake. A gentle air enveloped him as he was pressed against something soft, oh, maybe he should just sleep.

A distinct pain-- everywhere. He grimaced but had a feeling it didn’t reach his mouth. His first attempt to adjust himself to lessen the pain but it made everything worse. A jostling filled the air, something akin to when Toriel dusted Frisk’s ceramic projects a bit too carelessly, it was an odd sound but he found it soothing.

More arguing. He felt the need to break it up. To tell the boys it would all be fine but he didn’t have the strength. A crushing weight pressed his sore back to a hard crunchy surface he didn’t care for. They shouldn’t be bickering. Not over him. Not again. But he couldn’t remember what they were arguing about, he could just feel the heat of the capital letters in his head and the bitter cold of the lower case ones.

Soft touches, they were trying to be careful but it hurt. What were they doing? His head felt filled with cotton, dizzy, and sick as he was jostled. What happened? Why wasn’t he awake yet? When had he fallen asleep?

For a brief moment he caught a glimpse of three blurry white figures who were talking in hushed tones before he was left in the dark again. Were they going to find him here? Did they know where he was? Something warm wormed between each of his fingers, a gentle plushness with something firmer underneath. A soft squeeze made him smile and he squeezed back. Excited energy filled the air.

Finally, he saw gray above him. He was laying on his back looking at the ceiling of a room he did not recognize in a bed that was not quite comfortable. Every subtle movement was bitter. His head fell heavily to his right shoulder where he could see the hot pink and yellow shirt he was wearing. The tacky colors hardly mattered in comparison to the sickly gray, thin, stick like arm that stuck out from the three quarter length sleeves.

Who was that? At the base of the arm was a skeletal hand but entertaining the idea that it belonged to Sans or Papyrus was foolish. There was a familiar hole straight through the center attached to a very unfamiliar wrist. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He tried to hook his elbow against the mattress to press himself up but it barely moved no matter how much he demanded it to.

“Aster?” Papyrus asked softly.

Without any grace he forced his head to the left a bit disoriented when the ceiling above him disappeared. This had to be a dream. Papyrus was sitting in a chair beside the bed with his hands folded over the mattress, “Good morning,” he chuckled nervously.

He tried his best to see if anyone else was there but his eyes seemed content in cutting off the world to his right and he didn’t have the will to sit up. 

It took him a few tries to make any sort of noise, the hoarse: “Papyrus?”, what escaped him was a triumph even if it sounded utterly pathetic. Relief washed over him when he saw the tall thin letters plastered to the blackboard in the air. For some reason he was afraid they would look different.

“Yes,” he smiled excitedly, “yes, it’s me. Do you… remember anything?” Papyrus’s boney hands wrapped around his own. For a split moment the idea that he should cry, that he should be overwhelmed with emotion, that his was something he’d wanted for a long time, crashed against him but it escaped in little more than a whimper.

“Paps,” came a yawn from further down than he could see, “he just woke up.”

“I know that,” Papyrus locked his jaw.

Aster rocked his head so it was laying flat against the pillow, now he could see more of the room. The walls were all a slightly textured gray color but they were barely worthy of attention when compared to the shiny metallic equipment everywhere. His mind started to to unravel what the equipment was when he caught Sans rubbing his eyes at the base of the bed. “Ya didn’t come anywhere near my record if ya wanna try again.”

“No! He does not!” Papyrus barked but quickly covered his mouth when Aster winced at the volume.

“Where--” he wheezed.

“Toriel and Alphys are upstairs discussing things. Frisk is asleep in that chair over there,” Papyrus explained over the top of Sans who in turn informed him that they were in Alphys’s basement lab back at her house. If it wasn’t for the fact that Aster could read what they said he would have been at a complete loss. 

He cupped his hand over his right eye startled by the texture of it and that his heel pressed against the base without any visual indication it was there. A small hum of pain had laced itself there from just the minimal effort of trying to look around. “You’ll probably want to keep your hand off of that,” Sans suggested.

“No,” was his ever so elegant response.

“Well it will be very hard to eat a piece of cinnamon butterscotch pie with your hand on your eye,” Papyrus singsonged. There was no denying that he was hungry but the thought of food was not a pleasing one. He shut his eyes tight and shook his head just enough to get the point across.

Sans chuckled, “That’s fine, but you aren’t gonna feel better until you eat something.”

“Oh! Does anything sound good?” Papyrus pressed his hand to his chest, “I will gladly retrieve it for you! I am very accomplished at fetch!”

“No,” he repeated.

“Aster?” The voice was as small as a mouse and far too easy to skip over but Aster was eager to hear it. Groggily Frisk came into his field of view rubbing their eyes into an alert state, ‘You’re awake!’ They climbed up to sit on the bed beside Sans.

“Don’t wannabe,” he yawned finally pulling his hand away from his eye still expecting to see something from it.

‘Papyrus would you go get Mom and Alphys?’ Frisk signed excitedly to which the skeleton nodded diligently before bounding up the stairs. ‘What happened after I left?’

How did one even describe that experience, “A ghost stole my goop,” his tired mind mumbled.

‘A… ghost?’

“It looked like Papyrus,” Aster tried.

Sans chuckled, “I think ya might have hit your head somewhere.”

“Maybe,” he sighed, it did seem ridiculous now that he thought about it.

Papyrus bound down the metallic spiral staircase with Toriel and Alphys in tow. All three walked in such different beats that the metal was constantly wringing, creaking, Aster wrapped his hands around the side of the head. His chest flutterd with panic and he curled into himself which sent another round of aches through his newly discovered joints. He whimpered pathetically as Frisk patted his… his foot?

He shot up suddenly to see two long legs clad in some ugly gray stretchy material. The feet were misshapen. The white pieces on the top were all mashed together, most of the toes were connected along the sides, and he wished very desperately to cover them up. When he turned his attention away from his feet he saw Sans staring him down with a glowing yellow eye while his hand was protectively placed in front of Frisk. Why was he looking at him like that?

“Why don’t ya lay back down?” Sans suggested as Toriel took Frisk off the bed.

Oh no. He pressed the bedding tightly into his fists, they were scared. Why were they scared? Did he do something? Was he scary looking like this? He cupped his hand around his teeth and laid back down facing the opposite way of the concerned expressions.

“Aster?” Papyrus called in a tone close to Toriel’s, “are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I won’t sit up again, I’ll stay here,” he curled his fingers in the ugly pink shirt.

Papyrus ran his thumb along the side of his cheekbone, “It’s okay Aster. I promise, please look at us?”

Something about the touch was painfully nostalgic, he found himself pulled towards it until he was looking up at Papyrus. “Sorry about that, my brother is a little quick to _judge_.”

Sans sighed, “Just a bit jumpy. Not used to seein’ other skeletons.”

Other? Aster blinked with recognition, that is what he looked like! Not just his hands… everything did! He was a _something_ , he was _finally_ a _something_ , and that something was a skeleton. Just like the good boys. He felt the smile across his face as the corners of his mouth burned a bit from the effort.

“There we are,” Papyrus smiled back at him, “sorry about that. You’ve been through a lot.”

“I have,” Aster agreed solemnly. 

“Y-yes,” Alphys chimed in though he couldn’t see where she was at, “you h-have and we’ve learned… a lot about who you were?”

“Really?” 

‘Do you remember anything?’ Frisk signed from the side of the bed.

“Yes, we went to Hotlands and it was sticky hot and--”

“No dear,” Toriel cut him off, “from before. What’s the first thing you remember?”

“Home,” he shrugged, that was as far back as he remembered. The shifting stifling stillness of perpetually heated cold that comforted him with nothingness was all he ever remembered. That didn’t seem to be what the friends wanted to hear though. “I thought I didn’t have to remember,” he pressed himself against the mattress.

The room hung silent as indecision carried its’ own conversation regardless of the sealed lips around it. Aster tried to pull the collar of his shirt over his face but he couldn’t quite manage so he wound up with the shirt caught on something along his back. “You don’t,” Sans supplied as he helped unhook the shirt from Aster’s shoulder blades.

Toriel stood up, “Would you give us some space?” Everyone followed her order except for Frisk who held their mom’s paw firmly. Frisk crawled back onto the bed to sit even with his hip. 

“Honey,” she started.

“Dear,” he corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Her ears perked up slightly.

“You always call me dear.”

“Right,” She took a breath, “Dear, we have learned some things about who you once were that are… troubling.”

His fingers instinctively reached for the edge of the blanket he was on top of, “Cause I was bad.”

‘Of course you weren’t,’ Frisk signed obstinately.

“Yes, Frisk and Papyrus are adamant that you never meant harm but, well, let's start further back. Does the name WingDings Gaster mean anything to you?”

Aster shut his eyes and bounced the word around in his head but as unfamiliar as it sounded it didn’t take long for him to come up with an answer, “That’s him.”

‘Who?’ Frisk’s breath caught in their chest.

“That’s… the monster I keep dreaming about,” Aster ran his thumb along the hem of the blanket, “he’s really sad because he lost his family but that’s all I know. He doesn’t talk a lot.”

‘You’re not G-A-S-T-E-R?’

“You said I was Aster.” Was he supposed to be someone else?

“You are dear,” Toriel looked tired, “but you had some connection with this Gaster before and Gaster was a scientist. Like Alphys.”

“That sounds fun,” Aster smiled despite how heavy the air felt. 

“Yes, he was hired to help build the Core, a very big important device in the Underground. Well, he stuck with the science team and went on to do many many experiments that were detailed on that old computer you turned on.”

‘There were a lot, he was a very busy monster and we think he was the Royal Scientist before Alphys,’ Frisk added.

“But there was one experiment where he did something… very, very bad.” Aster squirmed under her burgundy eyes uncertain as to why he was taking this so personally. “He experimented on a living monster.”

“That’s bad?”

“Yes.”

‘It was Sans,’ Frisk’s fingers fidgeted, ‘Gaster… tried to hurt Sans with a dangerous magic.’

“Is Sans okay?” He forced himself to sit up, even though he promised he wouldn’t, in an effort to find Sans. The mere idea of him being hurt made his chest ache worse than the rest of his body. Toriel placed a paw on his back to help support him as Frisk put a hand on his leg to comfort him.

“This was a long time ago dear, but it must have been very distressing because Sans has no memories of the event.”

‘That’s why we were sort of hoping you remembered Gaster… So we could know why someone would hurt him.’

“I would never hurt him!” Aster turned his head quickly to see Frisk, much to the protest of his spinning vision. Frisk flinched enough for Toriel to put her spare hand protectively in front of them.

“We didn’t say you would,” Toriel’s tone was harsh as she lowered him back to the bed. The anger was out of her eyes as she rested her elbows atop the bed and smiled softly at him. She ran the backside of her paw across his forehead, “I’m sorry we got you so worked up.”

It was probably for the best, now he wanted to know who would do something bad to Sans. If his old self could help them figure that out, well, maybe it was worth finding them. “Don’t strain yourself,” she chuckled, apparently he was pulling a face of some sort, “your memories will come back in time.”

“For now though dear, we have to make sure this body of yours works alright,” she rested her paw on his shoulder, “you gave us quite the scare.”

“I promise… I was twice as scared,” he replied honestly. Watching himself give way and change into something else was morbidly fascinating but sickening at the same time. When he saw that fabric atop his shoulder, wait, that dingy gray fabric, “This isn’t what I was wearing?” It was a guess but it got a snicker from Frisk.

‘No, I don’t think you were ever a big Mew Mew Kissy Cutie fan sadly,’ they signed with a wide smile. Oh, was that who this pink haired cat was? ‘Alphys took your clothes cause they were drenched with whatever your body was made of.’

“Goop,” was his educated guess. Frisk laughed and Toriel chuckled, he liked the sound more than he remembered. 

After a little bit of light chatter and a few more puns than he preferred the others came back to join in the conversation. If he had done something bad, he looked at all of the smiling faces around him, he hoped they would forgive him. They were Frisk’s friends after all of course they had the kindness for it and… maybe now they really were his friends too! 

Alphys cleared her throat, “Aster. Y-you remember those tests we did? When we first met?” He nodded, “Well we’re going to try them a-again okay?”

She coached him along some grip tests with his hands, the one where he tapped his fingers to his thumb (which he was much faster at now), as well as a bit of hand eye coordination which was a bit clumsy since he couldn’t see well out of one of his eyes. With a considerate hum she pulled out a flashlight that she asked him to follow. As his eyes bounced back and forth the right side of the room grew a bit more visible. The room was blurry and kinda squished but it was something.

“S-Sans? Do eyelights dilate?” She clicked the flashlight off and on a few times.

“It’s more of a difference in glow, here, I’ll show ya.” Sans smiled plainly to Alphys but when the light hit his eyes suddenly his left socket was a bright blue and the right was vacant. 

Alphys squealed then stomped her foot, “Sans! That wasn’t funny!”

Sans was of a different opinion, he was laughing so hard he looked as if he would fall over. Papyrus sighed and took the flashlight from Alphys to shine in Aster’s eyes, with a fair amount of warning of course. Aster wasn’t for sure what he was looking for but the light made his eyes water and his already aching head decided to launch a formal strike. They shut the lights off for a little while after that. 

He probably wasn’t supposed to but, shrouded in darkness and the kindness of those around him, he quickly fell back to sleep. 

When he awoke they gave him time to feel a little alert, tried again to get him to eat, which he refused, before they started the next round of tests. Toriel helped him to sit up as he was requested to dangle his legs over the side of the bed. Aster curled his toes as far as they could, “Can I have some socks?

‘After we try this,’ Frisk supplied, ‘socks make it even harder to walk.’

The floor was carpeted: socks would be fine. He took a deep breath and placed the pad of his foot to the floor. Before he placed any weight on it he was aware of how much harder this was going to be. His legs were so thin, there was nothing to support them, and the way his weight felt hovering over it was just… Not what he was used to. ‘Take your time,’ Frisk advised him.

“We know you can do it,” Papyrus cheered.

His face felt warm suddenly, all he was going to do was stand, why would they make such a big deal out of it? Gently he pressed his heel to the ground and just felt the way the carpet tried to grip the bones. _One down_ , he thought with another steadying breath. Everyone was gathered around him in case he fell. As small as he felt Frisk alone could probably manage the task but it was nice knowing he had so much support.

It didn’t make the task at hand any easier to perform though. He locked his hands against the side of the bed and gently lowered his other foot until both were planted on the ground. “Come on we can’t _stand_ the anticipation.” There was no need to guess who made the comment, even if it wasn’t for the curly short font in the air, Aster knew, and recognized he was rather tired of keeping Sans waiting.

With a grunt of effort he separated himself from his death grip on the bed. He stood supported by nothing more than his thin gangly legs that left him just barely shorter than Toriel. Already his knees were tired but he wanted to move forward, there were things to do after all. He pressed his knee forward and, as he lifted his foot, he found a hand in each of his. 

One was soft, plush, warm, and small belonged to the human who had brought him to the Surface. The other was long, thin, and a bit coarse when he looked over he was surprised to see it belonged to Sans and not Papyrus. Unfortunately even with their vote of confidence he barely made it to Toriel who caught him as he stumbled into her, “That was very good Aster.”

He smiled as widely as he could muster, “Thank you.”

Aster leaned heavily against Toriel as Alphys read off the results of the tests but he was a bit distracted by how tired he was to listen. He’d only taken a few steps, it was hardly difficult, but he found himself drifting off leaning heavier and heavier against Toriel’s soft cinnamon scented fur. Her presence was so comforting and the scent so familiar that he figured he could shut his eyes a little bit.

They made him eat after that. The cinnamon butterscotch pie was far too strong of a taste. It filled his mouth and stuck to the roof of it as the scent wafted from his teeth. He pressed it away after a few bites.

“Alright dear, I’ll bring something a bit more mellow tomorrow alright?” Toriel hugged his shoulder lightly as she stood up.

Tomorrow? Realization dawned on him that he had no idea what time or even what day it was. Not that tracking it was a talent but he felt like he should know. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes, Frisk and I have school tomorrow,” Toriel supplied.

Why was his chest hurting? “I get to go too right?” _Please?_ He begged as well as he could without actually asking.

“You are going to stay here with Alphys, you aren’t ready to travel quite yet and it would be beneficial for her to run a few more tests.”

He looked over to Frisk who seemed to recognize his panic, ‘Can I stay with him? Alphys could take me to school tomorrow morning.’

“Frisk,” Toriel gave an exasperated mom sigh but before she continued tall scratchy letters cut her off.

“I am more than willing to stay the night with him,” Papyrus supplied proudly. “Think of it as your very first sleepover!”

“Bro?” Sans’s eyelights had a subtle shake as he looked up to his brother.

“Not to worry, I think the two of us will have an excellent time! I will show you how to have the best sleepover!” Papyrus laughed, “Of course if you don’t mind.”

Was he talking to him or Alphys? Because having the coolest skeleton help him figure out how to be a good one seemed like a no brainer. Plus… there was something about Papyrus that he just couldn’t figure out. A strange humming in the back of his skull that he couldn’t place but was excited to discover. “I would like that,” he finally muttered. 

As sad as he was to watch Toriel and Frisk walk up those obnoxiously loud stairs it wasn’t long before the Great Papyrus managed to put a smile back on his face. Papyrus really was the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this chapter to sort of parallel ‘Trapped’ from Charges because this too changes things.
> 
> I’m excited for the next chapter guys! I hope you all are too!


	18. A Pinch Of Positivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster spends the night at Alphys’s lab with Papyrus who is determined to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting this several hours than usual because I just have too much to do tomorrow morning. I hope that isn’t a deterrent to anyone ^^’
> 
> Also: Hit 90 Kudos last week! Thank you guys so much :)

Papyrus had plotted extensively in a short time to celebrate the sleepover: hot chocolate was made, extra pillows were procured, and a masterful fort of blankets now took up most of Alphys’s basement. It was all amazing and Aster was very grateful for the effort but he was also very, very, tired. He crawled lamely atop the pillows that lined the bottom of the fort then flopped atop them without any interest in moving another inch. 

Having a body like this was exhausting. He was already just sort of used to the aches that came with it and settled over him like an old memory. The oddities of it still bothered him but he was gifted a pair of socks from Sans’s collection so he didn’t have to look at his feet anymore. One positive solace though was how soft the pillows felt as they cushioned his chest. He curled it against him and buried his face into the fluff a bit surprised by the coldness of it.

His fingers twisted the hem of the pillow between themselves as he took in each subtle stitch. Everything felt… _more_ now. As if his sense of touch had been lightly coated in glue and had just been peeled off leaving everything fresh. A shudder ran through him as he remembered how overwhelming everything had been at first how much worse would it have been if he could feel like this too?

“I’m sorry you’re HP isn’t wanting to stabilize,” Papyrus spoke softly as he crawled in with a mug of hot chocolate in each hand. He didn’t spill a single drop as he maneuvered his knees around the plethora of pillows in his way careful that his head didn’t snag the blankets. As much as Aster wanted nothing more than to cling to the pillow he couldn’t let such hospitality go to waste. With an unintended groan he sat up to retrieve the cup.

Immediately he was hypnotized by the sensation of the subtle warmth that hummed along the ceramic. He tapped his teeth against the edge of the mug and the tenseness in his shoulders immediately ebbed away with a dreamy sigh. Papyrus was looking at him curiously, “I umm,” his eyelights darted about the room as if he could still find the lingering text box, “What did you say?”

Papyrus smiled and he felt even better than he did holding the warm cup, “Your health seems as unsure as you are.”

“Oh that’s nothing new,” he hummed taking in the scent of the cocoa.

“It isn’t? How do you know?” 

Did he say something odd again? His thumbs traced the lip of the cup, “It’s… just a feeling.”

“Well, it is very important to trust your metaphorical guts!” Papyrus set his jaw off to the side subtly as he thought, “Frisk was telling us about these ‘feelings’ you’ve been having  and I was wondering,” he rubbed his arm then set his cup aside. “Do you have any of those feelings about me or Sans?” His gaze was focused on him and nothing else but Aster didn’t feel the need to squirm beneath it.

“You’re both very good boys,” he stated plainly as he adjusted his throne of pillows. “When I think of you…” He hummed with thought, “I think of cinnabunnies, or I guess cinnabunnies make me think of you?” He shrugged at his own indecision, “I feel like I’ve waited a long, long time to see you smile and,” he furrowed his brows, “when you’re upset… I feel like it’s my fault like I didn’t do a good enough job. I think,” his shoulders slouched, “I failed you at sometime.”

Papyrus was quiet for a while as he studied Aster’s sockets before he placed his hand gently atop his knee, “If you did. I forgive you.”

“You don’t even know what I did,” Aster gestured lamely much to the disapproval of the hot chocolate that slid down the side of the cup in protest.

“I forgive you.”

Aster’s breathing stuck in his chest as he clutched his mug for dear life, “How?”

“Because you never were bad or villainous or whatever way you seem to have painted yourself!”

“But Sans--”

Papyrus set his mug atop one of the chairs that supported the fort, “My brother is one of the strongest monsters I know but…” He clenched his teeth as he fought for how he wanted to word his next point, “If someone as smart as Alphys with the resources to build the Core _wanted_ to hurt him. They would.” A rattle ran up his spine to shake away even the thought of such an act, “So even if the experiment seems like it was a very very very bad idea I don’t think it came with any ill intent.”

“And my brother is fine! Mostly,” his eyes dropped into a bit of a scowl, “I mean he’s a huge nerd, he never puts his all into anything, sleeps all the time, plus he has that dorky sock collection that will never win him anymore friends but… he’s healthy, he’s the happiest he’s been in a long time, and distinctly not an amalgamation of drippy bones.” He wrapped his hands around Aster’s and smiled that captivating smile of his, “So. Whatever Gaster did was _for_ Sans and it was with a soul full of good intent.”

“H-how do you know that?” Papyrus’s smile was so captivating he felt himself being pulled into the natural warmth of it. Everything seemed so much simpler through his sockets.

“It’s just a feeling!” He laughed proudly. “And I have not been wrong about this sort of thing yet,” he winked.

Aster’s bones began to jitter but no matter what he did he couldn’t get them to lock into place. The liquid in his cup flopped carelessly over the edge and stained at his clothing but he couldn’t stop. Papyrus forgave him. Papyrus thought he was good. Papyrus… He threw his arms around Papyrus’s broad chest and squeezed with all that his tired limbs could muster and Papyrus openly returned the favor.

He wasn’t sure why but he got the impression that the shoulder blades were supposed to he closer together, that the chest had once been smaller, that he should have needed to bend his neck a bit more to press his sockets against Papyrus’s collarbone. Papyrus had grown and for some unexplainable reason that made him indescribably happy.

Papyrus pulled away rubbing his socket, “Well… thank you for that… I very much need to change into my pajamas so I will return promptly.” He crawled out of the fort and Aster saw the way the hot chocolate stained the back of the red vest he wore over a white button down. Aster bit the rim of his half empty mug and smiled in mild embarrassment. 

 

* * *

 

Aster’s teeth creaked from the pressure of his bite as he focused intently on his heel pressed to the carpeted floor. Every step required way too much concentration from atop these spindly, sore, legs. He glared at the stairs, his adversary, Alphys said he had to make it halfway up them with assistance before he could go back to Frisk and Toriel’s. He missed his room, his bed, his dresser full of cinnabunnies, and his little black bun. The only thing stopping him from going back there was him.

His ankle gave at an odd angle and he found himself toppling towards his side, his arms rose up defensively but it was unnecessary as blue magic held him upright. He could feel every tiny little speck that Alphys’s machine had exposed try to press together as Papyrus tried to stop him from toppling over. Papyrus had been concerned by the tiny flecks where as Alphys was morbidly fascinated by it. Neither of them explained to Aster why they reacted that way but Aster was beginning to accept that everything about him was just going to be a little bit odd.

Papyrus helped him to sit in a chair that they had laid pillows on top to cushion his tailbone, which had to be the worst part about being a skeleton. The obstinate little bone snagged or cut into anything he tried to sit atop sometimes to a very painful degree. Luckily that much Papyrus said was normal.

Alphys laid down a new piece of bright orange tape that was a full stride longer than the last one. They’d been going at this all day and he still hadn’t managed to make it over to the stairs yet. Aster rested his head against the back of the chair, “I can’t do it.”

“That’s not what we say,” Papyrus folded his arms. Aster gave him a rather rude glare, “What do we say?”

His shoulders fell into a slouch, “I did better than last time. I will get it eventually.”

“Good!” Papyrus praised.

“Not in time for Toriel and Frisk though!” He had already spent four hours trying to pass the halfway point now there were only four left before they’d arrive. At the rate he was going he’d maybe manage a step by then.

“You just have to believe in yourself.”

“I don’t even know myself, how can I believe in me?” 

Alphys fidgeted with the sleeves of her hot pink shrug, “It’s r-really hard when you, when you start out, it can seem impossible even.” She shrugged with a nervous laugh, “B-but others believe in you. I-I had Undyne, and Frisk, and Sans, and well, Papyrus believes in everyone.”

“Of course, everyone is capable of greatness!” Papyrus laughed.

She smiled up at him before turning back to Aster, “So, despite not believing in myself knowing that others believed in me helped me to t-try my best!” Alphys flexed in a very poor attempt at an Undyne pose, “A-and I’m much better now! I just… had to realize I wasn’t… that I wasn’t as alone as I felt.”

“And that others could forgive you,” Papyrus put a hand on her shoulder.

“Right!” Alphys nodded.

“But,” Aster sighed knowing Papyrus was not a fan of the word. “I don’t know why I feel like this. Everyone has been nothing but kind to me and I just don’t feel good.” It always felt like there was a shadow looming over him, watching, waiting for the opportunity to take everything away because he wasn’t supposed to have it. He wasn’t supposed to be surrounded by monsters that cared about him or kindness because the shadow said so. Sometimes he would forget it was there for a little while but it always returned.

Alphys looked up to Papyrus who had his chin cupped between his thumb and first finger, “Aster. I have an idea but I would have to leave you with Alphys for a little while.”

“An idea for what?” He didn’t mind Doctor Alphys but he couldn’t practice walking without Papyrus’s blue magic.

“How to make you feel better! I am fairly certain it will be just the boost you need.”

A boost. Just a pick me up. Papyrus wanted him to feel better so badly, and so did the others, because they believed in him. So he chose to believe in them too, “Alright. I will stay here.”

“Excellent!” Papyrus beamed, “I will run all the way!” True to his word he turned and sprinted up the metallic staircase skipping three steps at a time. A tinge of jealousy settled behind Aster’s sternum at the ease of it.

“I’ll make some ramen,” Alphys clasped her hands together then quickly opened some cabinets revealing two cups with a Font he didn’t recognize written on the side.

“What’s ramen?”

“It’s japanese noodles,” she filled the cups with water, “though these are just instant they aren’t nearly as good as authentic but I-I still like them.” She tapped a few buttons on the microwave and it hummed to life.

Aster watched as Alphys rocked on her wide yellow feet while she focused on the microwave. A lot of the friends Aster had a distinct feeling or idea associated with them but Alphys was different. She felt sort of fuzzy? Like he knew her through someone but didn’t actually know her. Which was a shame because she had so many cool things!

As of the moment a plastic container with long blue papers sticking out of it had his attention. He rocked forward in the chair just enough to get into a standing position before he pried himself up using the back of the chair. 

Alphys was going to remind him not to move too much before she realized he was just moving over to the counter. One step, his heel sat firm on the carpet, two step, he lifted his other foot and rocked it in front of the other, just a fair bit away from the other, off to the right just a bit further, and then he repeated one more time so he could lean against the counter. 

“Can I look at these?” Aster gestured to the blue tubes.

Alphys chuckled, “You c-could have asked I would have brought them to you their just a bunch of scrapped projects.”

Excitement tickled itself along the base of his sockets as he drew out a tube and freed it of its’ rubber band. He laid it flat against the counter and held the ends down with his elbows. Drawn across it in a mess of sparkly pink ink were the plans for some sort of machine. He furrowed his brows as he read the notes along the edges piecing together that it was some sort of cleaning device.

He ran his fingers along the breakdowns that detailed what certain pieces did and what they were for. It was designed to loosen up dirt in carpets with a powerful gust of air and then suction it up into the device. Apparently it was dropped for shredding carpets and launching dirt into the air. It wasn’t a bad idea tough, he hummed, the output was what needed fixed but how-- his thoughts were cut off by the microwave beeping.

Alphys smiled shyly over to him her finger just barely away from the off button. “S-sorry,” she stirred little packets into both cups before she helped him sit back down. He watched in morbid fascination as she maneuvered two wooden sticks into the bowl in order to retrieve a portion of noodles that she would then slurp up. She chuckled embarrassed as she recognized she was being watched, “D-did you want to try chopsticks? I thought a f-fork would be a better idea.”

“You’re very smart,” he stated flatly before he twisted the ramen around his fork like he had seen Frisk spin pasta. 

“Oh,” she rubbed the back of her head, “thanks but it’s really n-nothing.”

He shook his head, “That’s not nothing that’s a lot of work! Can you really build something like that?”

“O-of course!” She squeaked proudly, “I’m actually m-much better at the construction part of it than the brainstorming I really like building things and putting them together but I get so incredibly frustrated that the design phase takes so long that I tend to just jump towards building it but then I waste a bunch of resources because I didn’t think it through and it was one thing when we were in the Underground and I could just go to the dump cause everything is free there but humans are very particular about their garbage… and…” She covered her eyes, “I am so sorry!”

Aster smiled pleasantly even if his eyelight was still spinning from trying to read so quickly, “I think it’s neat,” he stated simply, “I would very much like to be able to do such things like making moving stairs!”

She snorted, “Those weren’t difficult at all. I got the information from a human magazine and made them but I did come up with the design of the moving walkway on my own.”

“Do you have prints of those?”

“E-eat your ramen and then I’ll show you.”

The noodles weren’t anything compared to Toriel’s cooking but he ate them hastily to get to look at more of Alphys’s blue prints. She explained anything that he asked without any hesitation, and he asked a lot of questions, but she never seemed aggravated by it in the least. All of the designs were fairly solid even if they didn’t work. Some were so imaginative he couldn’t understand them even after having them explained but it just made him want to learn more. Just as she was about to grab some engineering books they heard the door at the top of the steps open.

Aster turned excited to greet Papyrus but something was off: “Alphys darling! I’m back!”

Hot pink boots clicked against the metal steps in a rhythmic attention seeking manner before the monster came into view. Their metallic silver face was framed by jet black hair that contrasted against their hot pink breast plate. Once they were situated in full view of the pair they hoisted one of the pink boots straight into the air, placed their right hand to their chin, and stuck their left hand out straight from their side in a pose that was dynamic but not much else.

“Hello Mettaton,” Alphys looked nervously over to Aster who looked very confused up to Mettaton.

Their hot pink eye fell to Aster, a quaint smile bloomed across their face as they trotted down the steps, “Alphys dearie what beauty is this?”

Aster turned to find who or what they were addressing but when he looked back Mettaton was barely an inch from his face studying every detail in it. Once Aster grew bold enough to make eye contact, he found himself fascinated by the monster in front of him. 

Small screws were barely visible around harsh lines in their face and their cheek seemed to be lined with subtle ventilation. _This is a machine?_ His eyes wandered down the arms taking in the way they were connected, then across to the chest plate, “My eyes are up here darling.” Mettaton winked cheekily and Aster tried to scoot the chair just a bit further back.

“Mettaton this is Aster he’s… a friend of Frisk’s.” Alphys stepped in front of him just enough to make a little more of a distance.

They feigned a gasp, “A friend of our Frisk who no one has bothered to inform me of? I’m hurt.” This monster… Mettaton, seemed to be a lot to handle. 

“Well you’ve been s-so busy with your… um… Ghost to Ghost Tour that we didn’t want to bother.”

“Alphys, Alphys, Alphys, I will always have time for the little people no matter how high I climb,” they placed their hand softly over their chest.

“Are you a robot?” That’s what Alphys called them right? Those living machines.

“In a sense, now tell me something,” Mettaton hadn’t told him anything, “where in the Underground were you hiding? I know all of my monster fans and I’ve never seen you before.”

Huh, now that he thought about it he didn’t get any of those fuzzy vague feelings from them. Interesting. So, he was meeting them for the first time. Then there was only one thing to do, “Hello,” he extended his hand, “I’m Aster the,” he was about to falter when a warm feeling flooded his chest, “Skeleton.”

“Oh I should have known those cheekbones, I would kill for such distinct features.”

“Don’t do that,” Aster stated flatly more than a little confused when Mettaton began to laugh.

“I like this one Alphys,” Mettaton’s arm extended across the room to grab another chair. Mettaton climbed atop it to sit on the back of the chair, “My name is Mettaton darling and I am the Star of Monsterdom, the King of Glam, the envoy of Glitter, and the Steel Stealer of Hearts,” he winked and Aster wasn’t sure what to feel about that.

“So what’s your story Aster I’m very interested in--”

“What brings y-you here today Mettaton?” Alphys interjected.

“Oh, oh, why yes, me first,” Mettaton smiled confidently which seemed to be the only way he knew how. “You see I thought I could add a little razzle dazzle to the performance with some glitter.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes! It just,” his eye shifted to the corner of the room, “didn’t go exactly as intended.”

“Just show me Mettaton,” Alphys pressed her glasses up on her face.

“You know impatience is not an attractive trait.” Mettaton held his left arm out and stretched it just enough that the coils unlocked from each other. A sea of hot pink and black glitter rained onto anything in its path.

“What were you thinking?!” Alphys squeaked as she stood up very quickly to brush the worst of craft supplies off of her.

“I thought--”

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know” Alphys scoffed as she went to grab a portable vacuum.

“I’m back!” Papyrus declared from the top of the steps before he clambered down the stairs his chest stealing as much air as it didn’t need. “Oh, I did not know you were anywhere near Ebott Mettaton.” Papyrus had changed out of his pajamas for a soft yellow button down that he draped his signature red scarf over.

“I’m full of surprises,” Mettaton gestured with his non-glitter filled arm, “like your guest here. I’m dying to learn more.”

“What’s your surprise?” Aster asked happy to change the subject.

“It’s a secret,” Papyrus grinned, “if you’ll excuse us for a moment Mettaton we’ll be right back!”

Papyrus helped Aster to his feet and together the pair hobbled their way to a room in the back that had been obscured by blanket fort. Aster leaned against a washing machine with a circle window in the front, “What are we doing?” This room was colder than the others but it was decorated by a multitude of brightly colored clothing lying about without any rhyme or reason.

“Well, I figured it is a lot harder to feel your best when you don’t look your best, so,” he pulled a large cardboard box from his inventory that had question marks drawn all over it, “I brought some old clothes for you that might be to your taste.” He set the box on top of the dryer and opened it. 

Aster was a bit surprised to see the plethora of black fabrics, they hardly seemed to suit Papyrus’s usual color scheme at all. “I don’t want to take your clothes,” Aster tugged at the base of the Mew Mew pajama shirt.

“No need to worry,” Papyrus’s smile grew a bit sad as something slipped through his usual gusto, “these were left by the previous owner of our Snowdin home.” He pulled a few pieces out, “They didn’t quite fit me right but I couldn’t bare to throw them out either! And it seems my foresight was truly on point because now you can have them. If you like them, of course.”

Aster took a pair of long thin black pants made out of a smooth material and held them in front of him as he had seen Frisk do when debating on an outfit. He folded the pants up just enough to get a good look at the hand stitched seam on the inside. He squinted to see the needlework surprised to find the flow and spacing very familiar. The sensation of pulling a needle through fabric caught itself in his fingers and he straightened the pants back out in front of him.

They were placed atop the washer he was leaning against as he grabbed a long black coat with big black buttons. He liked this one a lot. The collar was nice and high, the shoulders were squared in such a way it would fall right over him to make him seem a bit bigger than he was. It would be like his goop was back! Though a bit scratchier.

Oh! He pulled out a long purple sweater with a large floppy collar, he liked this too! Knowing that the whole box wasn’t full of dark and gloomy articles made him much more interested but the colors were still a bit lacking. Purple, gray, and white button downs, a few more sweaters and some vests. Honestly the whole box seemed to be a colorless version of a lot of Papyrus’s outfits.

At the very bottom was a pair of glossy black shoes and one more jacket. Immediately a sense of reverie overcame him as he pulled the jacket out. When he held it in front of himself he thought of safety, compassion, and Toriel for some reason. A smile embroidered itself over his teeth, “This is all very nice Papyrus.”

“I knew you would like it! Come on lets pick one to try on!”

“Now?” Aster scrunched the shirt under his fingers.

“Yes!” He clicked his teeth with realization, “But I will turn around! Just know that I will be here to assist you!”

Aster looked over the leftover clothes trying to decide how he wanted to assemble them together. He hadn’t done this before so it felt a bit like a test. After a bit more indecision he grabbed the softest feeling pair of pants, the coat with big buttons where a section of the sleeve had been worn thin, and a bleached white button down. He displayed them to Papyrus who, as promised, turned around to face the other wall.

It was a bit of a fight getting the borrowed clothes off and he found himself sitting atop a basket full to them brim as he squirmed into the new ones. The tedious buttoning of the shirt, then the jacket, seemed strangely effortless but by the time he finished he was well past exhausted. He curled atop the basket of  discarded clothes that were scented in a way he could not identify for a few minutes before he pulled the shoes over the socks Sans had given him.

They were purple with a gray argyle pattern which seemed to compliment the rest of the box’s outfits oddly well. He tapped the glossy black toes of the shoes together only to realize he was too squished in the basket to stand on his own. “Papyrus?” He lifted his hands rather helplessly into the air in a display of his stuck nature. 

Papyrus just laughed softly as he offered his hands to help him up. “Wowie,” he stated simply as he looked Aster up and down, “you look just like…” His voice was cut off by a smile so sweet it curled across Aster’s teeth as well. After a moment of hesitation Papyrus unwrapped his scarf from his neck and held it out to him, “I think it will complete the look!”

“That’s yours,” Aster held his hands close to his chest, “I couldn’t.”  
  


“Despite the fact this scarf is as iconic as yours truly I must confess that it isn’t actually mine.” He ran his thumb over the red fabric, “It was another thing left by the house’s previous owner.”

Reluctantly Aster wrapped his fingers around the well worn fleece, it had been softer once. He closed it in his fists, it was thicker once. The tattered ends fell against him, they had been whole once. The stitching was loose but it held, just as it always had. Joy, happiness, thoughtfulness, a single word that was burning in his fragmented soul that he couldn’t remember no matter how hard he tried.

Tears stung at his sockets as he shoved the accessory back to Papyrus, “It’s yours,” he stated firmly, “it belongs to you.” All of these warm feelings and all he could feel was hurt. 

“Aster,” he called softly as he took it back, “hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

He was upsetting Papyrus, Aster rubbed at his sockets. Papyrus had done so much for him, “I’m sorry, I’ll wear it just please don’t be upset.” A pit settled behind his sternum as he grabbed the scarf again but Papyrus shook his head.

“No Aster, you don’t have to do things just because others ask you to,” he pulled the scarf away, “I’m not mad I just… wasn’t expecting to feel that way.” He took a cleansing breath, “I think it’s time to show the world the new you!”

Aster shook his head as he tried to clear it out, “The new me?”

“Yes! I know the others will think you look just as fantastic as I do!” His shoulders bounced as he stood at his full height which was just barely shorter than Aster with the way his shoulders slouched. “Do you want to see?” Papyrus retrieved his phone from his inventory.

“No thanks,” Aster pressed the phone down his eyelight focused on Papyrus’s sockets.

“Alright,” he pocketed his phone and opened the door, “are you ready?”

The immediate answer was no. Without a doubt in his mind it was no. But Papyrus believed in him, so did Alphys, Frisk, and Toriel. He wrapped his hand around Papyrus’s arm for support and held his breath the whole walk around the blanket fort. Once he caught the yellow frills his eyes dropped straight to the floor, his grip on Papyrus’s arm tightened like a child afraid of being lost in the store.

“Darling,” Mettaton coaxed but his eyes stayed on the ground. “You look fabulous! A bit grim, could use some pink, but fabulous.”

He dared to look up, “Fabulous?”

“Call it the Mettaton way of s-saying beautiful,” Alphys chuckled.

“Beautiful?” Aster buried his face against the side of Papyrus’s arm, “My eyes are all angry, and my face is broken, I can’t be… be that.”

“But you are,” Mettaton insisted as he rose from the chair, much to Alphys’s distaste, “your face is so distinct you don’t look like anyone I’ve ever met! Which makes you a one of a kind! And nothing is more fabulous than an original my dear.”

“Those legs, that waist, nope, there is nothing to call it but fabulous!” Aster’s face was hot with magic as he attempted to hide in the collar of his shirt. “Now, we just have to work on that posture! Come now lets--”

“After I f-fix your arm!” Alphys stammard.

“Oh yes! I must be in peak form for this!” He turned sharply back towards Alphys then strut up to the chair before posing dramatically as he lowered himself to the chair.

‘I don’t understand any of this,’ Aster signed as he slowly pulled his chin from his shirt.

Papyrus laughed proudly, “You’ll get there, I will see to it myself.”

Without much provocation the idea that he was supposed to take care of Papyrus hovered over his teeth but he knew what the obstinate reaction would be. So, maybe, for now, it was okay to be taken care of but he made a tiny note in the back of his head to return the favor as soon as he was able. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally titled Sincerely Me because it was very much inspired by the tone of that song from Dear Evan Hansen. Ignoring ya know... all the lying.... yeah. Face value version.
> 
> There you guys! Aster finally got that hug!
> 
> This chapter was so refreshing and so fun to write :) I hope you liked it too!


	19. A Trip to the Librarby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster is back at Toriel’s house when someone comes over to check on him. Sure, they were asked to do so, but he’s happy to see them anyways... Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so dangerously close to 100 kudos guys! Thank you for all of your support it means a lot! 
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
> 
> This chapter is... messier then I would like but I think the ending is worth it!
> 
> This month has been super stressful for me. I’m hoping it is just because of all the holidays but I’m really just not feeling too great :/ So I might take a break from Debts for the rest of the month. It’s not a sure thing but I just thought I’d give you a heads up in case two weeks from now you don’t hear from me.

When Toriel and Frisk arrived to take Aster back to their home he was more conflicted then he wished to be. Toriel apologised up and down for accusing him of knowing someone who would… of  _ being _ someone who would have hurt Sans. He thought he’d misinterpreted it, surely Toriel wouldn’t ever think such a thing of him, but hearing her apology didn’t make him feel better. Even before that though he just… He felt happy there with Papyrus and Alphys, her machines, and even the eccentric Mettaton.

He couldn’t place why watching Alphys’s house slide into the distance left his chest aching. He loved Frisk and Toriel, for a long time that was all he knew, but there was more out there and suddenly he found himself with a taste for new things. 

Back home they had rearranged the living room to accommodate his mattress. Frisk had a blast with it on the floor pouncing into the bed as he laid in it or jumping across it to grab something from the other side of the room. It made him smile but he didn’t dare join. Stairs were too hard, he wouldn’t be jumping anytime soon.

They seemed to notice he was a little off still and just their acknowledgment helped cheer him up. That evening they all sat on the bed with a mug of hot tea and talked, they smiled, and laughed until the feeling that Aster had left something important behind left him. Maybe this wasn’t where he was from, or where he was supposed to be, but he was happy to be there.

It wasn’t until Frisk and Toriel left for school the next day that he realized why he’d been so uneasy. Alone in the dimly lit house he felt-- 

For a while he did well with it. The chore list he was given helped encourage him to work on moving about the first floor and he fell into the routine he’d had before but things were different. The shadows that draped themselves across the floor at midday clawed at him with a sensation of loss with the panic that maybe this time they wouldn’t come back. What if he was all alone? He didn’t want to go outside without permission again but being alone suddenly gave him chills.

As a counter to this one morning he waved Toriel and Frisk good bye then returned to his bed to sleep until they returned. The first time they didn’t say anything about it, he was still very prone to fatigue after all, but when it became a habit they grew concerned. So, Toriel made some calls and now friends came to visit while they were gone. It was normally Papyrus or Alphys but today Frisk said someone special was coming over and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited.

Aster rubbed his legs and repositioned himself on the couch. Alphys had loaned him a table full of books on everything from basic math to astrophysics. He’d made quite a dent in the collection but he wasn’t ever quite satisfied: there was an  _ itch _ in the back of his mind of something specific he wanted to read about but couldn’t figure it out. Oh well, for now reading about energy conversion methods was interesting enough.

A red blur pulled his eye from the pages as it settled outside the window. It was Papyrus’s convertible! Papyrus’s car was as impressive as the monster that drove it. It was a deep cherry red that practically glowed against the currently frozen landscape. The interior was decked out in skull and rose seat covers with a license plate that read: UR GRT. Aster wasn’t sure what that meant but it made him smile anyways. He was supposed to be stuck at work today! 

He anchored his hand against the armrest of the couch and forced himself to his feet. With a steadying breath he took a step forward but paused as he watched the passenger door open. A blue clad skeleton glared daggers back into the car with a definitive slouch. 

Aster hadn’t seen Sans at all since the day after they went to the labs. He took a tentative step to the door to welcome him in but yellow flashed in his skull. A harsh yellow glow… that was directed at him. The excitement at seeing him dwindled only emphasised by the way the blanket he had ensnared himself in slipped from his shoulders.

Someone hurt Sans. There was a good chance that someone was him. He clicked his teeth together, he had to get his memories back so he could prove to himself that he’d have never tried such a thing.

Sans didn’t seem too eager as he took a great deal of time to walk down the shoveled driveway. Aster’s fragmented soul sunk as Papyrus drove away: it was pretty obvious Sans didn’t want to see him…

_ No, _ he squared his shoulders and took a breath. Maybe Sans didn’t want to see him but he was excited to see him. Papyrus, Frisk, Alphys, Toriel, and even Mettaton believed in him! They said he was a good monster and he wasn’t going to prove that to anyone else if he kept doubting it himself. With his head held high he answered the door before Sans bothered to knock. 

“Welcome Sans,” he gave his best hospitality smile and hoped it looked even half as inviting as Toriel’s.

“Heya Aster,” he rubbed the back of his headlooked up to him. When Aster stepped away from the door Sans sauntered straight to the couch where he flopped. “You’ve uh, been busy.”

Aster nodded as he made his way back to the couch. He was getting quite good at managing that distance comfortably it wouldn’t be much longer before the whole first floor was his to wander. Then he wouldn’t have to have guests anymore… but he didn’t really want to go back to being alone during the day again.

He stared awkwardly at Sans doing his best not to notice the way the shadows in the room rested over his small form. Did they bother Sans too? This cold shadows that sent a chill into his shoulder and rotted in his chest as he—

No! No, no, no! He wasn’t thinking about it! With a shaky breath he sat on the opposite side of the couch he had been on to watch as Sans flipped through some of the books he’d been reading. “You like this sort of thing?” Sans cocked a brow as he gave Aster his attention.

Stars, had Sans always looked so tired? His bones seemed healthy enough, a nice sheen across the white of them, but his sockets held a darkness to them that didn’t seem to belong. The creases under his sockets could be worse, more defined, shaded by a lack of sleep, still, he shouldn’t be old enough to have them. “Uh,” Sans’s voice hummed over his thoughts, “I got something on my face?” He wiped at whatever remnant of breakfast he thought might linger along his jaw.

“Oh sorry. No you don’t,” Aster fidgeted with his hands, why was he so twitchy now? He was so quick to grab his fingers or his sleeves anytime something even remotely bothered him. The way they felt wrapped around tools or a ceramic mug just made him feel at ease and he didn’t have the slightest idea why. “What did you ask?”

Sans chuckled and Aster found himself smiling sheepishly at it, “If ya like these books.”

“Oh yes very much so!” He gestured to the piles on top of the coffee table, “Those are the ones I’ve finished on the history of puzzles and puzzle mechanics, right now I’m reading about energy conversion methods, and then I’ll move on to the ones about actual engineering and construction methods.”

A fondness shown in Sans’s sockets as he picked up one of the books, “You sound a lot like Paps.”

“Thank you!” Aster smiled.

“So what’s your favorite thing to study?” Sans eyed him curiously some thought teased its’ way through the dark of his sockets. 

Aster tilted his head to the ceiling as he thought for a moment, “Something else,” he stated firmly, “but that’s just a feeling.”

“Not a whole lot to go off of,” Sans rested his head against the back of the couch. He cracked open the book he’d grabbed to scan the pages with his eyelights, unfortunately that was the book Aster had been reading. He could start a new one but he felt he had to finish that one first. Maybe he could just ask for the book? But Sans was enjoying himself.

He pulled the old sewing kit out of his inventory, the only thread he had was black but that was fine. Much swifter than the last several attempts he threaded the needle then tied the knot at the end. With a groan of effort he hoisted the materials basket into his lap then picked out the scraps to his banner he’d started ages ago. He was glad Toriel had been into crochet lately so she hadn’t seen his project.

It would be nice to finish and hang it from her door for her. She’d been so upset since he came back from Alphys’s almost every time they met she felt the need to apologize. He was trying to believe he was a good monster and her apologising wasn’t helping. 

The needle wormed its way around the letter ‘m’. Hopefully once this was done there would be no more hard feelings. He smiled at the silver needle as it reminded him of the shiny key that sat in his inventory. She wanted this to be his home and he wanted to get his memories so maybe it would be. 

Unless, he had a home to get back to… Did he? Surely he had friends as nice as these who were missing him. He should look for them and maybe they’d remember for him! All sorts of warm fuzzy stories were just waiting to be recounted he just… didn’t know where to look. So far it didn’t really seem like he’d needed to do anything but just waiting was tedious he wanted to do something to make it go faster.

He stuck his finger with the needle and winced. His teeth pressed against the impact as he had seen Toriel do but he wasn’t sure why there was the need.

Sans yawned, “Hey did Tori leave you anything to eat?” 

“She left a vegetable tray,” he shrugged.

“Do you… like vegetables?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “but she said the monster coming over today did so I assume that was you.”

“Of course,” he laughed, “nice try Tor.” His eyelights went up and down Aster, “Got anything you want?”

“To?”

“To eat bonehead,” Sans’s sockets wrinkled as he smiled. Aster tapped his fingers to his teeth as he tried not to laugh, he was bonehead just like Sans and Papyrus. 

“Well,” he drummed his fingers against his teeth, “have you ever heard of a place called Grillby’s?”

Sans snorted, “Uh, yeah, it’s been about four hours but I can say I’ve heard of it.”

“I went there once,” he tilted his head to the side, “I wasn’t supposed to be there but the burger was really good! It was the best part of a bad day.”

“Yeah?” Sans smiled fondly, “I can’t tell ya how many bad days have been made better by Grillbz’s cookin’.” He slipped off the couch, “I’ll go get us some burgs then, be back in about ten minutes so don’t do anything while I’m gone.” He shoved his hands in his pockets then turned up the stairs, which creaked once, twice, then never again.

Intrigued, Aster set his banner across the arm of the couch to look up the stairwell. Sure enough Sans was nowhere to be seen. “Sans?” He called but received no response.

His fingers wrapped around the banister as a flutter sent a bit of panic into his chest. Where did he go? Was he alright? With a hefty breath he hauled himself up onto the first step, he needed to find him. 

An image flickered in his head: a startled Sans appearing in a dark place for a second before disappearing again. Someone clung to him, urged him forward, but he couldn’t see them. Cold, foul smelling, wetness clung about his ankles, they were so close, weren't they? He fell, no Sans fell, and his chest hurt. There was something he had to do, he had to do something but--

His foot slipped on the second step and he only managed to stay righted by his death grip on the banister. It tore his shoulder something fierce which encouraged him to sit with his head in his hands. 

What was that? It was like he was asleep. Did he fall asleep? Stairs did tire him out. He focused hard on the image of a panicked Sans falling but try as he might that was all he could recall. So it was just a dream. Without much care he stretched his back over the stairs and stared up to the ceiling. He would just ask when Sans got back.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait too much longer as Sans emerged from Aster’s no-longer-bedroom with two greasy brown sacks in hand. “You didn’t fall did you?” Sans asked as he observed the limby Aster splayed across the steps.

“Only a little,” he answered honestly.

Sans padded his way down the steps, switched the sacks to one hand, then offered his other one to him. Aster eyed it curiously taking in all the subtle little chips and scrapes, minus the obvious difference in their palms their hands looked a lot a like. The idea that this hand was once small enough to slip through the hole in his palm came to mind but he shook it off.

He wrapped his hands around Sans who just stared at him for a long while before the scraps of a soul in his chest  _ pinged _ blue then pulled him to his feet. Sans shook his head as he went to the living room to clear a spot at the coffee table to eat.

Aster sat atop the couch and leaned down to his sack while Sans sat on the floor with grease already down his chin. The burgers were just as good as he remembered them being: the bread was soft with just a hint of sweetness that mingled with the smokey savory taste of the burger. The dressings were scarce: just some ketchup and a piece of lettuce but it didn’t matter in the least. Everything about the burger just made him warm and fuzzy inside.

With a ravenous bite he tore into it and juice found its’ way to the couch. “Oh no,” he mumbled around a mouthful of burger. He grabbed a grease blotted napkin from the bag and began to blot at it quickly. Sans just chuckled as more of the juice dripped down his hot pink MTT Ghost to Ghost tour shirt.

“ _ Juice  _ leave it, I’m sure Tori would  _ relish _ the opportunity to share some cleaning tips,” Sans shrugged.

“No,” Aster stated pointedly.

Sans finished the rest of his burger than went to the kitchen. He returned shortly with a bottle of soap, a towel, and a sponge. The room fell into an awkward silence as Sans dabbed away at the would be stain. With a hefty sigh Aster moved to sit in Toriel’s chair, they should be talking shouldn’t they? What could he even say to him? There was an uncomfortable raw sensation as he pondered over everything he knew about Sans.

He was very smart, he liked puns, and he was skilled with blue magic but he wasn’t really sure what to talk about. “Are you going to be here tonight? Maybe we could look at the stars again,” he tried.

“Probably not,” the cleaning supplies disappeared into his inventory, hopefully he would remember to return them to Toriel.

Well, that was disappointing, “You like the science stuff too right? Like Alphys?”

“Nah, that’s more of a hobby for me Al is the real deal.”

Strike two. There had to be something they could talk about. Oh wait, that dream: “Have you ever fallen from the ceiling?”

Sans stared at him liked he’d just asked where Sans’s nose was, “Can’t say I recall that no.”

Strike three, the reward for his failure was more silence. At this rate maybe it would have been better to stay by himself again. Sans didn’t even seem angry with him or anything he just… didn’t want to be here, with him. He sulked into the chair as he watched Sans return to the books on the table.

“You uh…” Sans started but then shook his head and returned to the book.

Aster’s fingers clicked as he squeezed them tight, “You don’t have to be here. I’m sorry Toriel asked you to come.” He wanted to know Sans he really did but Sans didn’t want to know him and he had enough things to deal with at the moment. Maybe someday him and Sans could be close but today was not that day.

The book clapped shut. Aster watched as Sans strolled back to the door, oh. He really was going to leave… That was fine. Maybe even for the better, “You wanna go somewhere?”

“Where?”

“You’ll like it, trust me,” he winked and held out his hand. Even if he didn’t know a lot about Sans he felt he could handle that much. Sans opened the door and suddenly the world around them grew into an absolute consuming darkness that left him weightless and just about sick. The air was too thick to breath but it pressed against him filling his ribs with air and pestering his skull with an emptiness he’d forgotten about.

“Woah, hey, you okay?” Sans had both of his hands around Aster’s thin humerus as he stared worry up into his sockets.

“Don’t do that again please,” Aster whispered his voice left back at the house. He couldn’t shake the feeling of that breath in between then and now was a place that only shadows remained. “Please, please, don’t.”

“I won’t, I just,” he gestured to the sign over their heads, “thought you’d like to visit the Librarby.” Before Aster could ask what that was Sans strolled in through the front doors to a collection of whispered greetings, “It’s where they keep a bunch of books to read.”

Aster spun a tight circle in the center of the floor nearly forcing himself to topple over, “Sans?” Sans had cautiously placed himself at Aster’s side to catch him if he should tumble.

“What?”

“There are so many books!” He gasped.

A soft laugh rattled in Sans’s chest, it felt different than his usual one and it only made Aster more excited, “That’s the Librarby for ya. Lets’ see if we can find that somethin’ you’re looking for alright?”

“I want to read them all,” Aster whispered.

“Maybe another day,” Sans ushered him towards the nonfiction section and they split up to see if anything seemed of particular interest. 

The Librarby had a peculiar smell to it that Aster felt was unique to it. All of the books were in various conditions but he found his eyes drawn to the ones with ragged warped binds. They had been loved so much by so many monsters, he traced the rough fabric of an olive green book as he tried to give faces to all of those just as hungry for knowledge as he was. His chest fluttered as his hand fell atop an astronomy book. 

He looked back to Sans then opened the book to scan through the blurry pictures that hadn’t aged well. Still, there was something to the idea that so many had hummed with delight as they traced the dots on the watery black and aged manilla to make out the bodies above. The care that went into bringing these ideas together to make them physical warmed him to his core.

Aster kept skimming along the binds but the books he leaned towards all reminded him of Sans a collection of puns and jokes, some silly pranks with wacky kids on the cover, the practicality of magic, and of course a good stack of astronomy books (a few on astrology as well because he wasn’t quite paying attention). His collection began to tower precariously behind him but he paid it little mind.

A new spine had his attention:  _ The Physical Application of Blue Magic _ . The name of the author was missing from any place he thought to look. Instead there was just a note that the papers had been found within the Hotland labs without an author attached to them. 

When he opened the book it fell to the dedication page which was written in sloppy lowercase Common.  _ To my Dad, who taught me there’s no such thing as pointless knowledge. _ He cradled it against his chest as black began to blot at his vision. Books were such an amazing thing.

“Did ya find what you were looking for?” Sans appeared to his right and Aster stumbled backwards in surprise. There was little for Sans to do but snicker in amusement at the display.

“I… I don’t know,” he flipped through the book, “do you know who wrote this?”

Sans cracked it open and began to skim the pages, “Nah, can’t say I do.” He tilted his head to the side and squinted intensely at one of the pages, “Huh, musta read this at some point. A lot of these thoughts are ones I’ve had and try to apply. Weird. Probably just some old geezer.”

“Geezer?”

“Just means really old monster, like really, really old, possibly cryptic,” Sans rambled.

“Knock it off,” Aster requested sharply.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, “this tower here yours?” Aster quickly explained all of the books he’d gathered and Sans seemed to pick up immediately that the selection was more geared towards himself than Aster. “Well, I think I’ve got ya covered,” he flopped a single book onto the table.

There was a part of Aster that wanted to inform Sans there was no way he could pick one book out of this entire building and find the right one but he figured he’d give it a shot regardless. He sat down at one of the nearby chairs to take in the shiny new cover of a book simply called  _ Storms. _

Aster rested his head on one hand as he began to read about the way the sky moved, how it changed and shifted. At any moment things could be different and for some reason that was truly remarkable to him. What a world. Nothing stayed the same for long even on a still day the wind could pull so subtly.

The beautiful orange leaves he’d seen when he first arrived were all gone now leaving the trees barren and cold. All of the brilliant oranges had grown an earthen brown as they tumbled along the grass to find themselves somewhere new.

He read about how ferocious the gentle rains that pattered outside his window could grow. How snowfall could measure in yards like an ice based trap. Everything shifted on the Surface nothing could be held still for long no matter how tightly you grasped it. There was something optimistic in that but so terribly frightening as well.

“Want me to tell Tori to pick ya up from here?” Sans yawned with his chin pressed flat against an Astronomy book. He raised a brow before he turned his good eye towards the nearest window, it was already dark. When did that happen? His eye fell back into the book and Sans chuckled, “You can take it with you. Here I’ll check it out for ya.” Instead of focusing on the hand in front of him he found the brilliant white dots on the page the hand was blocking.

“Will you show me Lepus?”

“Lepus?” It was Sans’s turn to look perturbed before he nodded, “Oh yeah, the rabbit. Hang on.” He flipped through the book quickly before he settled on a page, it took him a moment but he managed to point out the twelve stars that made the rabbit. Aster was delighted that this constellation actually resembled the shape of its namesake.

“What’s Lepus’s story?”

“It doesn’t really have one,” Sans shrugged as he rested back in his chair, “sometimes folks say its’ what Orion’s dogs are hunting and there’s,” he squinted as he tried to remember, “something about the rabbit on the moon but not much.”

So the rabbit didn’t have a story then? That hardly seemed fair compared to how fantastic all the other constellations were. “There’s just the one bunny?”

“Yeah.”

“Then… it’s looking for the others,” Aster traced the rabbit for himself. “The night sky is so big and scary, there’s dogs, krakens, dragons, and all sorts of things that could eat a rabbit but Lepus isn’t going to get lost in the night. Lepus is going to find the other bunnies if it has to go to the moon to do so!”

Sans considered him for a long time. He didn’t bother to share the fact that Lepus was seen so rarely compared to the other stars or that rabbits tended to have negative connotations in most stories. He just smiled softly: “Want me to start a collection of constellation stories for you too?”

When Aster didn’t seem to understand Sans continued, “Like I do for my bro. Those ‘Great’ Constellations he discovered I try to keep track of ‘em all. Who knows someday someone might look up and find Lepus’s family. Sky is always changing after all. The view we see now isn’t what it has always been.”

“Then yes,” Aster stated, “I want Lepus to find their home even if someone else does it.”

“Alright,” Sans pulled out a notebook and jotted a few notes before he grabbed the books. He talked to the librarian (librarbian?) so that they could borrow books and Aster thanked them several times for being so generous. 

As they waited outside for Toriel to arrive Aster did his best to read about hurricanes in the dim lighting of the Librarby windows. Something soft hummed in the back of his mind until he couldn’t keep it there, “How did you know I would like this book?”

Sans’s eyelights pointed to the heavens above, only a few stars were proud enough to shine against the lights of Camp, “Just a feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has had time to settle from the holidays and all of the sickness going around! It has certainly been very busy and stressful for me >.<
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter despite its blatant flaws =.= and hopefully I will get super motivated again and not need a break at all but right now... I’m really tired and I’m sorry for that. I hope to be back in two weeks as always but if not I will see you all the first Wednesday of February!


	20. It’s the Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relations between human and monsters is taking another harsh step backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 kudos has been reached *acheivement unlocked sound* That’s awesome!
> 
> Thank you guys for your comments last update I was really disgruntled with the chapter and my process in general but you guys focused on the positives and it really helped me clear my head! This chapter is much more to my tastes so thank you!

A cloud loomed in the house, warm and humid, as the trio sat around the breakfast table. It didn’t belong to Aster who was happily picking away at his caramel pecan pancakes and it certainly didn’t belong to themself, at least not the bulk of it. Toriel on the other hand was clinging to the paper in front of her, with more claw than paw, as she answered the hundreth phone call that morning.

Across the front of the paper in bold black letters was the headline: MONSTER TRAVEL BAN AND CURFEW OFFICIALLY IN PLACE. It had been unanimous from every member of the council except for the two boss monsters who were apparently overruled. Frisk sighed as their oatmeal sloshed back into the bowl from their spoon as the cloud about them finally settled over their chest. There was going to be a swift backlash on both sides over this.

They rested their head in their arms with tired eyes: it was back to being an ambassador again their carefree childhood days were already limited now more of them were being cut away. The title was a great honor and Frisk loved helping out their monster friends it was just very draining at times. Not to mention how far behind they fell on schoolwork.

Toriel clicked her phone off with a definitive tap as she tossed the paper down to the table. “I’m going to go down to the council and tell them what a bunch of stuff faced over in--” she paused with a worried look to the two staring up at her from the table. “Sorry, I just can’t believe they would go so far over a little pressure! It took them three months to approve a monster history wing in the museum, it took them four years to allow the monster school to be made into an official home of education, and this epitome of hatred gets passed in two and a half weeks?”

It was closer to two months but Frisk wasn’t going to be the one to point that out when she was on such a roll. In fact, they reached across the table to grab a breakfast roll their mom had yet to touch and tossed it playfully at her. For a flash she looked utterly baffled before a soft laugh grinned through her teeth, “Yes, yes.” She scooped the roll up and tossed it it back to Frisk, “No need to  _ butter me up  _ I already like you.”

‘Just get a group of monsters together to protest those windbags because you know you aren’t going to change their mind.’

“I know,” she sighed heavily, “but I will give it one last try!” 

‘You go goat mom!’

Toriel wrapped Frisk, and the chair they were in, in an impressive hug, “You are too good my child.” She kissed the top of their head, “I will be off then and--” She looked over to Aster, “right. Frisk are you going to be able to look after Aster?”

‘Of course!’

“I can look after Frisk too,” Aster insisted as he reached for the newspaper.

“Right,” Toriel smiled and placed a paw on his back, “silly me to worry.”

“It’s what you do,” Aster grinned unabashedly up to her.

“Oh my, I seem to have shown my cards,” she pulled her purse off of the counter then onto her shoulder, “be good you two and I will be back for dinner.”

‘Love you Mom!’

“Thank you Toriel.”

Aster sat up straight as he flipped his way through the newspaper, he really was smart if he could figure out how to read those. Frisk hated the paper between the strange smell, almost greasy feeling to the ink, the way it smeared on your finger tips, and how you had to flip between sections to even read what you wanted was frustrating enough let alone all the upsetting stories inside. Today’s headline wasn’t the only rain on their parade no doubt there were all sorts of stories to encourage that the decision was necessary.

Something caught his attention, if the knit brow and harsh eyelight, was anything to go off of, ‘What’s wrong?’ They signed sitting up to their full height so their hands could peak over the top of the paper. 

“Negligence is not taking care of something right?” Frisk nodded in agreeance, “So Negligence of duty is in reference to not doing a job right isn’t it?” His shoulders lost their proper posture as he crinkled the paper between his fingers and the holes in his palms.

‘Hey don’t let it upset you they tell all sorts of lies in those,’ their hands signed quickly. ‘Wanna work on a puzzle?’

He smoothed the paper down across the table tainting his off white bone with the messy gray of the ink, “Officer arrested for negligence of duty.” His first finger tapped to the picture of an officer being arrested by another one, “That’s Justin.”

‘Who is Justin?’

“The guy,” he rubbed his skull, “the one that took me to Grillby’s. He said that some humans said I hurt them, but I didn’t!” He quickly defended.

‘I believe you,’ Frisk replied calmly.

“It says he wasn’t following procedure when dealing with hostile monsters,” he tapped his fingers across the table, “that he was taking them to an undisclosed location instead of arresting them.” Suddenly his fingers stopped drumming and the kitchen grew silent, “What does arrested mean?”

‘Aster it’s not your fault, chances are he’s been helping monsters far before you even got here.’ Frisk was rather pleased to know that they had such a strong human ally that they didn’t even know about. There were human allies, those that had befriended monsters and stood with them in pickets, some that just had a strong sense of justice that they threw into the cause, and stuffy rich folk that threw money at them as a symbol of their support but Frisk had been convinced the police were against them entirely. This Justin might have been caught for it but maybe there were others out there helping as discreetly as they could.

“What does arrested mean?” He repeated a bit impatiently.

‘It means to be held by legal authority.’ This didn’t seem to spark much of an idea in his head, ‘It means they are going to be put in jail until they decide what to do about it.’ 

Immediately Aster’s expression soured: “He was helping me, why is that bad? I didn’t do anything!”

‘Maybe sometime he accidentally helped a bad monster and someone found out about it.’ There was the more likely case that some of the humans weren’t too happy about their alleged attackers or misdemeanors going unsolved. If it kept following the same officer it wouldn’t be too hard to track. At the moment even implying that to Aster seemed like a terrible idea something about his good eye seemed a pale moon yellow. 

‘ It’s not your fault,’ they reiterated knowing Aster’s terrible habits.

“But--”

‘Hey Papyrus said no buts!’

At that he seemed a bit taken aback, “There are exceptions.”

‘Not in this case,’ Frisk stated absolutely. Aster rested his head in his hand as he re-read the article and Frisk took the opportunity to skim along with him. It sounded like Aster wasn’t the first falsely accused monster this Justin had helped the article stated he’d failed to arrest over a dozen dangerous monsters.  _ What did a Whimsun’s murmurs make some poor human nervous? _ If these stories were anything like Aster’s they could all be equally as made up. 

Between this and the cover story it didn’t surprise Frisk to find the ‘Your Voice’ colom dedicated to ‘ _ Do you think Monsters need tighter laws to keep citizens safe? _ ’ Luckily not everyone held a blatant yes in their answers, there were even a few sweet stories, but the bad definitely outweighed the good. 

Frisk carefully poked the side of Aster’s brittle looking skull, something about seeing the marks become cracks still had them a bit cautious, ‘Come on, let's do something else.’

Their shoulders jolted up to their ears as their phone vibrated in their front pocket, they’d forgot it was on them. When they glanced at the screen they were greeted by an image of Asgore whose beard was braided with different sized flowers when they slid the green button over they waited awkwardly for a greeting. “Hello?”

“H-hi Dad.”

“Ah there you are! Howdy Frisk!” Asgore half laughed through his booming voice that sounded as if the phone was already on speaker mode. “I heard from your mother that you were on your own today, I was wondering if you would like me to pick you up later for lunch. It has been a while since you’ve been over here.”

Frisk furrowed their brows with thought, “Sh-shouldn’t y-you be with m-mom?”

The other side of the line was silent for a long while before Asgore cleared his throat, “I believe she said something along the lines of ‘You would only hold me back’.” Both sides of the phone went silent.

“Then, then, sure Dad, s-sounds fun,” they smiled, “w-would you make those l-little roll up sandwiches?”

“Of course! I’ll swing by the store and get the stuff for them before I pick you up.”

‘Can I come too?’ Aster signed in a whisper.

“A-Aster can come r-right?”

“Oh, I had nearly forgotten about our new goopy friend, of course he can!”

“He’s um, well-- not really--”

“I’ll see you at noon!” With that Frisk’s phone clicked off.

Asgore wasn’t left out of the loop on purpose, it was just a lot easier to forget about him when he lived on the opposite side of Camp. Well, it would be a surprise at least and hopefully a good one. 

For a while they worked on a puzzle of a hero in green fighting a giant purple bird in a stained glass window. When Frisk had bought the puzzle they figured all of the bright poppy colors and distinct black lines would make it easy to work through but the ocean backdrop behind the fighters was almost torture not to mention all of the bird’s plummage. The pair had been working at this one for a while now though and it was so close to being done that both of them almost forgot they needed to change clothes before Asgore arrived.

“Just a little more,” Aster whined as he fit the curly end of the hero’s nightcap into place.

‘Come on mister,’ Frisk tugged at his wrist but dropped it the moment Aster winced. He rubbed his shoulder, ‘Is that still bothering you?’

He nodded, “It hasn’t gone away, it doesn’t really hurt but it doesn’t feel good.”

‘Well let me make sure it’s okay then.’ 

Uncertainty flooded his sockets as he held the collar of his silky charcoal gray pajamas, “I don’t want you to look.” 

They’d already seen the pictures Alphys took. Even so, that didn’t seem to sway how shy he was about his body. It looked so different than Sans and Papyrus’s some part of him must know that even without having seen the difference. ‘Just the shoulder.’

A soft breath slipped past his teeth as he cautiously pressed the collar aside to reveal the thin black line in the bone. It was about as wide as a piece of cardstock but the line was anything but straight. Frisk had the luxury of saying they’d never broke a bone but this looked like it had been broken at some point. He’d said that he nearly fell on the stairs a few days ago when Sans was over but something that small shouldn’t still bother him.

‘Looks the same as always,’ Frisk smiled. ‘Need help getting dressed?’

He shook his head and shooed them away so that he could get ready in Toriel’s office. It wouldn’t be much longer before he was strong enough to have his bedroom back but for now Frisk sprinted up the stairs on their own. A quick change of clothes later and they were back downstairs in a blue puff vest with a hot pink shirt underneath to watch out the window for Asgore’s tired old pick up truck.

The sun that was so close to hanging lazily overhead was glaring at the white snowscape before bouncing the light up to the windows and piercing the curtains with its’ rays. They could feel the warmth through the window despite the chill that came with touching the glass. Winter was full of opposites coming together to inconvenience everyone that couldn’t celebrate a good old fashioned snow day. 

When the study door opened then shut behind them they turned around to see Aster in a plain gray button down with a black vest. The clothes Papyrus had found for him always made him look so professional, ‘Don’t you ever want to wear some colors?’ 

“Oh um,” he picked at his sleeve, a habit he started immediately after wearing clothes, “I have a purple shirt.”

‘I mean if we were to get you some new clothes would you like something with color?’ Gyftmas was fast approaching and Toriel had asked them to fish for ideas.

“I like these,” Aster insisted tugging down the bottom of the shirt, “but if you want me to I’ll wear others.”

‘No, if you like them then that's good enough,’ Frisk nodded as Asgore pulled into the driveway. ‘Besides you look great in grays!’ His face lit up a bit as he shyly gave his thanks.

Aster pulled on his peacoat while Frisk awkwardly slung their winter coat over the puff vest. When they stepped outside Aster recoiled back into the house to rub at his eyes. “It’s too bright,” just in that short amount of time his eyes were already watering and his bones began to twitch into soft rapid clicks.

Frisk bit their lip as they thought not even entertaining the idea that they go without him as he had quickly proposed. They rummaged through the stand by the entrance to retrieve a pair of Toriel’s sunglasses. Even before they held them in front of Aster’s skull they knew they were far, far, too big for him. That was not going to stop them! Aster gave them a nervous glance as they reached for the duct tape in the drawer.

“How--dy dad!” Frisk smiled as they jumped into the middle seat right next to their goat dad.

“Howdy Frisk,” he gave them a one armed hug, “and a howdy to you too...Aster….” His brows furrowed together as he watched the limby Aster fold himself awkwardly into the vehicle careful not to hit his head on the frame as he had for their Hotlands trip. So maybe they had gone a bit overboard with the duct tape. In their defense Aster didn’t have a nose or ears to rest them on. So the strip that reached all around the back of his skull was necessary, as was the one along both arms, and the one up from the nosepiece. Sure it looked a little silly, okay, a lot silly, but it was necessary.

“Hello Asgore,” his cheekbones laced with gray as he stared very intently at his knees.

“You um,” his eyes dropped down to Frisk for some sort of assistance, “look nice, I like the vest.”

“Oh,” Aster picked at the buttons on it, “thank you.”

Frisk lowered the sun visor on Aster’s side as they drove across to the opposite side of Camp. They talked cheerily with their dad who was lamenting the loss of his garden for the year while Aster took quick peaks out the window to watch the scenery go by.

They’d forgotten about how pretty the drive was. Toriel’s house was closest to the city which meant there were nice smooth driveways, evenly placed telephone poles, and a view of the city scape. Asgore’s on the other hand was still in the part of Camp that the city hadn’t bothered to fix up yet. There were nice sidewalks made by skilled monsters but the drive was mostly across dirt or gravel. The world opened up as he turned down a side road lined with nothing but trees. No houses, no wires, barely even a path, just nature passed them by.

“I like trees,” Aster mumbled as he rested his head against the glass.

The house was similar to Toriel’s in the fact it was a decent size but you’d never guess royalty lived there. It was two stories tall, perfectly symmetrical, with a nice sized front porch that was usually decorated in all sorts of colorful flora and furniture but it was not the time of year for such things. The path to the house was perfectly shoveled without a slick spot to be seen.

Aster sighed as he tried to figure out how to maneuver is lengthy legs out of the truck while Asgore and Frisk slipped out the driver’s side door. Frisk came around to his side to offer their hands to him which he gladly took. Luckily, despite how much taller he was than Frisk he didn’t weigh enough to even begin to pull them as he anchored himself up.

There was an awkward beat as Asgore openly stared at him as he stood behind the car door as if he was trying to figure out a sliding puzzle without knowing what the image was even of. “You cut a nice figure Aster,” he finally fumbled to fill the awkwardness.

“Thank you,” he tapped his fingers together, “I like that sweater.”

Asgore laughed a hohoho laugh that only punctuated the bright red sweater with a tree stitched to the front of it, “Why thank you! It’s getting awfully close to that time of year again so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to pull out the old Gyftmas gear!”

“Gyftmas?” Aster looked down to Frisk for an explanation.

‘Why don’t we talk inside?’ Frisk smiled politely. Their nose was feeling oddly hot for how cold it was out a shame they had skin unlike Aster and lacked a fur coat like Asgore. 

The entryway was welcoming with a nie tall coat stand off in the corner and stairs directly in front of them. It took a bit of undoing but they managed to separate the mass amount of duct tape from Aster’s skull with minor grievances. Though he did inform Frisk that they would not be leaving until dark.

Asgore’s kitchen was that of a single man’s, his cupboards were mostly empty, his dishes were enough to get by, the fridge was smaller than he was, and the oven was faithful despite its’ age. Of course Asgore’s main kitchen utensil was a skillet on the stove top. Today though Frisk and Aster assisted as they made tiny roll up sandwiches with deli meat atop a cream cheese spread. They were simple but fun to make.

After they finished making them they nibbled away at them while they made simple conversation. Asgore explained to Aster what Gyftmas was but he also stated that it was such a community holiday he wouldn’t really understand it until he experienced it. Now that they were talking about holidays Frisk realized they had been so busy lately they never really celebrated any of the holidays since Aster arrived. Well, that just meant Gyftmas would have to be perfect!

Asgore gave Aster the grand tour of the house, it was clean and well maintained, the furniture was sparse which gave it a weirdly empty feel, a few house plants breathed life into the rooms but for the most part there wasn’t much to see. He hadn’t had much luck maintaining carpeting so all of the floors were hard wood or ceramic which was perfect in the summer but a bit chilly when there was snow on the ground.

“What’s upstairs?” Aster asked as they settled on the living room couch while Asgore sat atop a stool.

“Oh um,” Asgore ran a finger behind his ear, “it’s um…”

‘His junk collection,’ Frisk teased. Asgore was doing so much better than he had been with his depression. He kept himself busy around Camp doing odd jobs for monsters or doing yard work for mom, he kept the bottom half of his house clean (after Toriel stated Frisk was only allowed over if it was), and in the spring or summer he was vibrant and alive as he worked on the garden. 

Winter was harder on him. There wasn’t a lot of out door work to be done and staying inside just wasn’t the healthiest thing for him. It reminded him of gray castle walls and locked rooms as he awaited the next misfortune to befall him. This time of year even his greenhouse tended to lack the usual love and care it was accustomed to with many leaves having brown patches he’d usually never allow.

Asgore folded his hands together, “It is mostly forgotten relics from the war that were brought to me at some time or another. I have fears as too what would happen if I discarded them carelessly now.” 

“From the war?” Aster asked to which Asgore nodded, “So, like me? You said you lost your lighter during the war.” Aster had tried several times to give the enchanted lighter back to Asgore but he insisted that if he had been so careless as to lose it in the first place then it hardly mattered now.

“Perhaps,” he stated simply. “I do not see myself keeping it that way for much longer. Someday I would like to go through it all and finally rid myself of that time.”

“Can I help?” Aster’s voice was as soft as his good eyelight.

“Oh no Aster,” Asgore smiled lamely, “I do not require assistance I will tackle it on my own time.”

“But I want to help you,” Aster tugged at his sleeve, “I feel like I’m supposed to.”

Asgore lowered his eyes to Aster’s which made him look away, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that. I am not your responsibility.”

Aster clamped his teeth together and shot a worried look to Frisk. ‘Aster gets these  _ feelings _ sometimes that we think are attached to his past somehow. When you first came over to look at the lighter he really thought you two were close at one point.’

With a considerate gaze Asgore leaned back as far as the stool would allow, “Hmmm. I can’t say I recognize you Aster but… Well, the Dreemur family had several servants attending the castle, mostly Eternals or Elementals, but a few Skeletons. Perhaps you worked for our family at some point.”

Frisk looked to Aster who seemed very lost in thought but not in such a way it seemed anything snapped into place for him, ‘We know he had some connection to the labs.’

“Where I only did good things,” Aster declared firmly. They were happy to hear Aster believe that so strongly. 

“Hmmm,” Asgore dropped his shoulders, “I’m afraid I don’t recall much. Toriel and myself set up the Science Division before,” his eyes nearly lost all pigment before he sealed them shut, “but afterwards I had minimal involvement. I just checked in from time to time to see what they were working on and remind them that they were doing a good job. I don’t have much of a mind for such mumbo jumbo you see so it all just flew over my head.” He chuckled with a smile back on his face.

 “So… you don’t know me?” Aster sighed.

“Not directly I’m afraid,” he placed a paw on the arm of the couch closest to Aster, “but if you ever figure out this connection we had promise I’ll be the first to know,” he winked.

“Of course!” Aster swore.

“Good,” Asgore smiled, “I am always happy to meet new friends or reunite with old ones.” He still seemed to be under the impression that whatever their connection had been was something insignificant where Aster seemed to think it was quite lofty. If Asgore had known Aster wouldn’t there be some connection? Now that he was back to the way he was supposed to look shouldn’t there be more than just a few odd glances. Frisk wouldn’t blame anyone for not recognizing the shadowy, goopy, monster they first brought home but now how was it still a mystery?

They had tried and failed to talk to Sans about Aster since he’d changed to match the monster in the picture. There always seemed to be something more important to talk about or some quick pun that was so bad it distracted them. Papyrus on the other hand seemed willing to talk about it but never did. Whenever Frisk brought it up he would open his mouth then shut it with a concerned expression. His opinion of Aster didn’t seem to change at all, if anything Papyrus seemed more interested in him now than he did, but he just didn’t want to talk about it.

Did they know and just didn’t want to tell them? That hardly seemed fair.

“Actually Frisk, I do have a surprise for you upstairs, if you two are willing to excuse the mess,” Asgore ran his claws through his beard.

‘Sure,’ Frisk supplied quickly, ‘are you okay for a trip up the stairs?’

“Yes that should be fine.”

“Do you have a problem with stairs?” Asgore raised a brow.

“We just don’t get along very well but if Frisk helps me it’s no problem,” Aster smiled encouragingly.

“I could carry you,” Asgore rose to his feet like a stubborn weed.

“Oh no, you really don’t need to do that,” Aster curled further into the couch but it did nothing to stop towering boss monster.

“I’m just going to help you out,” he scooped Aster up as if he was nothing and laughed, “what do you weigh? Twenty pounds soaking wet?”

Aster covered his charcoal gray face with his hands, “Forty, now please your majesty don’t do this.”

“Please, just call me Asgore,” he stated flatly, “besides if you’ve helped me out before I should return the favor.”

“Not like this,” Aster moaned as they started up the steps with Frisk in tow.

The upstairs was exactly as Frisk had remembered it: unpolished floorboards squeaked under the weight of them and the boxes that already occupied it. The paint was a fresh blank white begging to be painted but left silent by the shadows. They turned into the first room to the right of the stairs. It had been cleaned out almost entirely aside from a few boxes and a chest, there was even an attempt to polish the floor and a few paint strips were left on top of the old worn chest with a rusted lock. Why did he feel the need to keep such things?

Asgore set Aster down and walked over to the wide window, “Quite the view right?”

It really was. From here you could see right over Dad’s garden and the trees to Ebott park and the sparkling lake. Even in the winter frozen over the way the silver sheet shown up amongst the green pine needles was something that took their breath away. “Asgore leaned against the side of the window. “My teenage years I was quite rebellious and had a deep desire for a space my own. I know things are going to be changing again soon but I wanted you to have somewhere  _ else _ if you should ever need it. I won’t ask questions but I want you to have a place here.”

Frisk pressed their hand to their chest as their breathing decided to halt suddenly. The chances of them needing to get away from Toriel’s was so slim. They had lived a nightmare before they fell into the Underground but Toriel’s home was a dream. They loved their friends, Toriel’s cooking, their bedroom, the way the light filtered through the stain glass, the house always smelled after a cinnamon butterscotch pie, but they loved their dad too and he was left out far more often than he wished. “Th-thank you Dad.”

His smile was so soft it seemed it would melt if they dared to touch it, “You’re such a good child Frisk.” Without a moment of warning Asgore kneeled down to hug them, “I know you probably won’t need it but I’m just a short jog up from the park if you ever just want to visit.”

“I will,” Frisk smiled, ‘Can I pick the paint?’

“Of course, what were you thinking?”

‘Orange! With yellow stripes!’

“Sounds fantastic!” Asgore beamed his eyes growing a vibrant orange, “And I have a bed frame somewhere around here so we can get a matching bed set.” 

They couldn’t help but tear up a little bit: he was so happy, so excited, and if this was all it took then they were happy to help him with it. ‘Of course you’ll need to finish getting rid of some of this junk.’ Frisk turned to gesture to it surprised to see Aster kneeling on the ground in front of the old chest.

His appearance was in stark contrast to the vibrant oranges they were just talking about. He was so small in the corner he almost seemed less like a monster and more like a shadow. With wide sockets he caught their gaze and stumbled to his feet, “Sorry, I uh, it was a family moment I was just um--” He rubbed quickly at his eyes after ferreting something away to his inventory.

“You’re such a good Dad Asgore,” he smiled, “it makes me really happy to see you smile like that!” With a quick stride he stepped over to the window and gasped, “That’s Ebott Park?”

‘Aster?’ Frisk placed their hand gently over his as he leaned against the windowsill.

“Yes it is,” Asgore stated without any waver in his voice. “A lovely place you’ll have to see it in the spring sometime.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “I think I will.” His voice trailed off and his eyelight fell away from the light of the window, away from Asgore, and away from Frisk. He was somewhere else entirely in a secret spot Frisk couldn’t find a clue of.

‘Hey dad would you start some tea?’

He looked utterly baffled that he had not done so sooner, “Of course, I’ll get right on that!” With that his large paws trot across the creaky floorboards and made his way downstairs.

They waited for Aster to speak, or fidget in the silence, or anything at all but his half lit eyelight didn’t give any indication he wished to be found. “Aster,” Frisk spoke softly or perhaps their voice was just too weak to break the tension in the air. Still, his eye fell down to them with a sad sort of half smile. ‘What’s wrong?’

Slowly he turned his hand over then reached into his inventory to pluck a small piece of metal from his inventory, “This is mine… That’s not a feeling either I know that this is mine.” Frisk looked up to him then took the thin piece of metal from him. Barely visible across the surface was a hand etched cross with a circle around it and a thumbs down. They pressed their brows together as they tried to sort what that meant or how this of all things called to him. On the back were two hooks which made this: something? 

“It’s a clasp for a cape,” Aster stated firmly. He tapped the symbols on the front, “That’s WD.” In what language? Wait… they looked like the little hand painted buttons on his phone. “I’m WingDings Gaster aren’t I?” Frisk’s eyes widened just enough to be noticeable which was just enough for his soft sad smile to tick into aggravation, “And you knew that didn’t you?”

‘Yes.’ They really thought there was going to be more time before they had to cross this bridge and the heartbroken expression he gave them wasn’t making this any easier. ‘We knew.’

His features scrunched in distaste, “I guess I did too… I just didn’t want to be…Maybe I’m wrong? WD could be short for many things after all!” 

Frisk swallowed hard as they watched his expression shift from disgruntled to positive knowing full well they were about to bring him right back down. If he figured it out on his own then they had no right to keep it from him anymore. From their inventory they retrieved a small plastic card and presented it to him. ‘We had to clean this up a bit but this was clipped to your lab coat.’

“Lab coat?” He studied the card with a pinched pained expression, “You knew. You knew and didn’t tell me.” His voice quivered until it finally broke, “Why? I thought you wanted me to get my pieces back. Why would you keep this from me?”

‘We just… wanted to make sure that--’

“I wasn’t going to hurt anyone if I remembered.”

As they stared up into his worried sockets they realized that they never recognized just how sharp he’d become. When they met him in the Underground it had taken years for him to even comprehend Hands but since coming to the Surface everything had changed so quickly, and not just physically. He wasn’t the same monster that was excited at the prospect of being a sponge, or the one that would grab a hot pan out of the oven, in such a short time his mind had readily adapted to so much. Just look at the books he was reading! He used to struggle with highschool homework now he was reading about particle physics  _ casually _ . 

And… they hated to admit it but there was something terrifying about that. He was so ready, so eager, to learn everything in his path but it didn’t seem to have a stopping point. What lines would he cross to get what he was after? They knew of a monster sweet, shy, and dorky who had fallen victim to such pursuits and they just didn’t want to see that in him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ they finally broke the wall between them.

Aster cupped his fingers over his mouth as tears pricked in his sockets, he walked away from Frisk and sat with his back to them atop the old chest with the leather that was only holding on from sheer force of will. “Aster,” they tried but he shook his head dismissively. “Please, tell me-- me what y-you are thinking.”

When Aster curled his knees up to his chest as his only means of response Frisk’s heart ached. They just wanted to make sure he was going to be alright. Even if Gaster was someone who delighted in hurting others it was obvious Aster wasn’t. It wasn’t bad to seek confirmation so they could help him if his memories proved unfavorable, right? They just wanted him to be happy.

They climbed atop the chest and sat beside him with one leg hanging off the side. The old thing creaked with a disheartening splintering sound but it seemed to hold true. Frisk looked up into Aster’s poor eye before they retrieved a cinabunny from their inventory. With the care one might take with a wounded animal Frisk gently set the pastry in his lap.

His fingers curled around the small thing with the care of a king to his most prized jewel, “Those are for good monsters.”

“Y-you are. A good monster.”

“You didn’t believe in me,” he scooched over so he could look at Frisk with his good eye. “Papyrus said that if someone wanted to hurt Sans they could and that I should believe I’m good because you saw that in me. But you didn’t.”

‘I do believe that you are good Aster but…’ They fumbled with their hands, ‘You seemed so afraid that you were bad like you knew in your soul that you were, and the River Person’s warning, and I just--’ Frisk tilted their head back as they combed their fingers through the sides of their hair feeling the tickling sensation of moving fibers, ‘you were so good Aster it scared me that you doubted that.’

How was it possible to feel feelings without ever recognizing them? Now they were all coming out and it was hurtful but they didn’t want it to be. They weren’t afraid of Aster just all of the uncertainty oddness that surrounded him.

Aster set down the cinnabunny to pick at the lamination on the card, “My head is really full right now Frisk. I don’t know what I should think, or feel, or say…” He clamped his head between his hands then just stared into the corner of the room as if there was someone he had been putting off for a while standing there. 

“Do you have a notebook?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” they pulled their little flip notebook out of their inventory and presented it to him.

“Thank you Frisk,” he drew it close to his chest, “I just… need to think a while.”

‘Do you want me to leave you alone?’

“Not alone,” he stated hastily, “I just want some space for a while.”

‘I understand,’ Frisk slipped off of the chest to hope that the sharp pain in their thigh wasn’t a splinter. They started to the door before they turned suddenly, “I’m so so so-rry that I h-hurt your feelings.”

Even when he hadn’t done anything wrong Aster still flashed him an apologetic look, “I… I know why you did.” He picked up the notebook as if to write before he put it down to consider them, “Thank you for taking Asgore’s offer. I feel like he’s been through a lot and you really made him happy.” He smiled fondly as his eyes fell down to his notebook, “Nothing makes a dad happier than to know their kids still want to be around them.”

 Frisk smiled fondly,  _ Just a feeling _ . They were fairly certain that was the intended follow up before Aster disappeared to the world inside his head. When they made their way into the kitchen they gave their dad a great big hug. So many things were changing: the seasons, the laws, Aster, and even themselves. It was good to know at times like this that there were still solid things they could cling to and for now the flowery scent of their goat dad was the most comforting thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asgore isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s going to try his best! ‘Tis a good Goat Dad
> 
> Thanks for your continued support!


	21. Something you want to get off your Chest?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgore takes Aster and Frisk back home to Toriel's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your continued support! We are getting super close to what you've all been waiting for and I can't wait to share it with you!

“Asgore,” Toriel sighed as she held open the door, “if you intend to run off with my children you need to inform me in advance. Not after the fact.”

He sheepishly rocked on his feet in the driveway, “Sorry Tori-- el.”

‘Good save,’ Frisk signed discreetly.

Another tired sigh, “Well just don’t stand out there in the cold.” She gestured for them to come inside before she stepped that way herself.

“Thank you for reminding me to text her,” Asgore’s smile was of pure relief as he rested against the side of his truck.

‘You would have got a big floppy ear full otherwise.’

“You are correct,” Asgore chuckled. “Aster? Would you like to get out of there?”

The monster in question was currently curled into a ball with his knees against the dash and that notebook in his lap. Aster hadn’t looked up from that tiny notebook since it was handed to him, he was even going back to pages he’d already written on and squeezing phrases and thoughts into any corner he could find. What little peaks Frisk had managed to spy under the streetlights on the way home it seemed to detail just about anything that came to mind. Lots of names with lines attached to connect them to other names or thoughts. It was messy but he seemed to understand it clearly.

“Aster,” Frisk tried.

That time his head shot up and he looked around a bit absently, “We’re here,” he stated.

“Yes we are back at Toriel’s for dinner,” Asgore informed him as he opened the passenger door. Aster attempted to slip out the seat but the buckle did what it was supposed to. He fumbled with the clasp for a moment before he slid out to lean against Asgore.

“Thanks,” he muttered under his breath. “You two head on in, I’ll take care of the heavy lifting!”

Aster had already turned back to the notebook. Frisk shook their head with a patient smile, ‘Come on silly. You don’t want to miss dinner do you?’

“Of course not,” his good eyelight fell to them before it turned stiffly back to the notebook.

Frisk swiped the thing and tucked it into their inventory a bit tickled to hear a childish whine, ‘You can have it back after dinner.’

“Promise?”

‘I promise,’ Frisk smiled as they took his cold hand in theirs and lead him into the house. Whatever mom was making already smelled fantastic! Lingering sweet onion and garlic stood out first and foremost but of course that wouldn’t be the whole dish. Whatever it was had their mouth watering which meant it was bound to be good.

They bound into the kitchen with Aster in tow and swung their arms around their mother’s waste, “Love you!”

Toriel chuckled, “Love you too. How was Asgore’s?”

‘He’s really cleaning the place up Mom I think you’d like it!’

“Well, that’s good,” she didn’t seem particularly interested. “Aster what did you think?”

“Oh it was very nice, we made little sandwiches and he showed us his greenhouse out back. I think that was my favorite thing.”

“What on earth is that?” Toriel gasped when she turned to look at Aster.

“Oh it’s a place where you can keep plants where it’s cold out,” Aster supplied but Toriel’s eyes were pinned past him. When Frisk turned to look back where they come from they saw Asgore balancing the old chest between his arms.

“What hunk of junk are you bringing into my home?” Toriel demanded with squared shoulders. With her posture so precise and imposing it was easy to see her royal lineage.

“Actually--” Asgore started.

“It’s mine,” Aster whispered with his shoulders tucked up defensively.

Toriel relaxed but her puzzled expression didn’t change. “What do you mean it’s yours?”

“Mind if I put this down somewhere?” Asgore laughed as he repositioned his grip.

“Just set it in the hall for now,” Toriel supplied, “I will take it up to his room after dinner.”

“I can handle it just fine,” he placed his foot firmly on the first step.

“ _ I _ will take it up after dinner,” Toriel stated calmly before she turned dismissively to start dishing up plates. 

It was a new meatball recipe! They were smothered in a garlic onion butter sauce. The creaminess of the sauce helped counter the somewhat dry nature of the meatball which made it taste like it could just melt in your mouth. She paired it with angel hair pasta which was a perfectly smooth contrast to the sharpness of the garlic. Another excellent meal! 

Frisk happily bit into another meatball. Aster seemed to be of the same opinion judging by how large of a forkful of pasta he just bit at. His healthy appetite seemed to balance out whatever condition made his HP waver so much. They still weren’t sure what condition he was afflicted with but it seemed as long as he ate right it was countered. By the way he liked food it didn’t seem like that would be a problem.

Asgore was more than happy to eat his exes cooking even if the ex in question barely gave a glance in his direction. “So Aster, what was this about that chest being yours?” Toriel asked as she cut a meatball in half.

“Yes,” Aster stated punctually, “it is mine.”

“Do you remember it dear?”

He squinted off into the distance, “Kind of? It had my things in it! And I think I remember it being a house once.”

Toriel swallowed hard, “A house?”

He nodded, “I can remember being closed in and having my knees curled up to my chest.”

“Your house though? Dear, a chest isn’t anything folks of any sort live in,” she assured him.

“I could be wrong,” it was a simple dismissal in an attempt to get back to his noodles.

When they talked about the chest earlier he hadn’t mentioned living in it. Aster might not be the biggest of monsters but he was so gangly! They couldn’t imagine him folded up in the chest… though now they were wondering if they could fit inside. 

“I actually wanted to speak to you about some of the boxes contents,” Asgore picked a noodle out of his beard much to Toriel’s disgust. “Perhaps later we could--”

“No.” Aster stood up suddenly, “No more waiting until I’m out of the way, or sleeping, if you are going to talk about me and my past then I have every right to know!”

Frisk caught the concerned look Toriel gave them to which they replied with a simple ‘I-D.’ It took her a minute to piece together what that meant but once she did she nodded. “No need to get upset Aster. If you wish to be a part of such things then you shall. Sorry for not including you in the past.”

It was obvious he was prepared to fight, maybe even a little too much, but without the confrontation he was a bit uncertain as what to do. Luckily though there was a plate of food in front of him that needed his attention. The rest of the meal was a bit quieter than usual but it went off without a hitch. Aster happily filled his plate with a few more meatballs after everyone said they weren’t going to get anymore.

Asgore brought the chest into the kitchen and set it down beside Aster. Frisk was impressed the sad old thing was still holding together after being moved around so much. It was sturdier than they thought even if some of the leather flaked to the ground once it was placed on the floor. “Why don’t we start with the clasp?” Asgore prompted.

Aster fetched it from his inventory to pass to Toriel. She placed her reading glasses on then traced the edges of the etchings with her claw, “Definitely hand carved.”

“It says WD in WingDings, you know, like WingDings Gaster,” Aster fumbled clumsily through half thought hand signs.

‘Do you want us to start calling you W-I-N-G-D-I-N-G-S?’ 

He seemed to grimace at the thought, “No. I think I would like to stay Aster as long as I can or at least until I remember why I had such a silly name.”

“Fair enough Aster,” she returned the clasp to him, “I’m afraid I can’t gain any information off of this though.”

“Frisk can I please see the notebook?” Aster asked softly. Well, it was after dinner, they passed it to him and he flipped to a page where he had an oddly geometrically perfect oval with the WD drawn in the center. “It was for a cape. A gray scratchy one with a hood I think. I think I liked it very much but it wasn’t in the chest.”

“Maybe I could make you something similar,” Toriel smiled.

His eyelight practically threw sparks, “You could?”

“I think it is within my abilities,” her smile grew as the light seemed to catch her eyes. She had something already tossing about in her mind, this much Frisk could tell. “What else do we have dear?”

“Would you make sure to save the ummm, well, you know which one for last?” Asgore requested.

“Okay,” Aster nodded as he pulled out a worn moth ridden dingy off white tunic and the purple capelet it came with. He held it by the shoulders to allow the deltarune on the chest to be read easily. Holding it in front of him the uniform was barely the length of his torso, “Asgore says this was from the knights? Guards or something?”

“Yes, this was given to members of the army chosen by high ranking officials,” Toriel’s brows knit with worry, “I have never seen one so small though.” She unpinned the clasp on the capelet and wiped at it with her napkin. Decades of dirt fought to cling to its’ home but they were weak under Toriel’s fierce grip. Her efforts exposed another deltarune embossed on the piece of metal.

“Are you sure that is yours dear? Not that of a mouse monster, or maybe a young Eternal or Elemental?”

He flipped through the notebook as if to reaffirm it, “Yes, I didn’t like it,” he read, “it was too big. Spears, Pikes, Front Lines, Dust. Those are the feelings I get from it.”

“Oh dear,” Toriel put her paw to her teeth. “Asgore, a  _ child _ , this is a uniform designed for a  _ child _ ! Who in our kingdom would have done something so… He wouldn’t have known any better and they were just going to throw him into a war?”

Asgore folded his hands atop his stomach, “It was common practice during the time to send orphans with no one who cared about or for them off to battle. It’s cruel but you know that was the time.”

“Yes but not anointed by an official! One of  _ us  _ saw a child and welcomed them to the army! Who would do that?” Her burgundy eyes bore into Asgore’s as if she blamed him personally.

“Eloy was pretty stuck in his ways, maybe the old hammer of justice? I don’t know Toriel.”

“This is discouraging,” Toriel tilted her head back and took a steadying breath, “what else is in there?”

“A pointy sword,” Aster shrugged, “but I don’t remember anything about it.”

“What else do you remember dear?” Aster gave Asgore a sideways glance and received a nod.

“A carving knife,” he set the rusty thing atop the table. Everyone around the table stared at it, for it was familiar to all of them. Frisk had held one nearly identical in their hand when they faced Asgore regardless of what decisions they had made on the way to him. Asgore had already inspected it, he already knew, but after holding it for a moment Toriel’s thoughts were confirmed.

“This… no. One  _ just _ like this was,” she looked to Asgore for confirmation a sea of emotions crashed over her when Asgore’s worried eyes agreed with her. “Where did you get this?”

Aster sunk into his chair, “I don’t remember.”

“Why did you have this?” She demanded.

“I don’t know,” he was looking more and more like a cornered animal.

‘Mom. It’s not the same one. That one should be back in the box at New Home.’ Frisk assured her. The knife resting on the table had the same handle as the one in the box, the same worn brand on the blade, and the same wrappings on the guard. To an onlooker the scene was probably quite odd: two boss monsters and a human staring at a knife as if it would leap off the table to stab them at any moment. Meanwhile Aster was looking very much like he wished he’d have left the trunk at Asgore’s.

‘What do you feel about the knife?’ Frisk asked gently.

Aster turned away from Toriel to answer, ‘Not much.’ He flipped through the notebook again, ‘I liked it better than the sword. There were two. A turtle gave it to me and it was mostly for vegetables.’

‘Did the turtle originally give you two?’

“Maybe?” He shrugged noncommittally.

“Aster dear,” Toriel’s tone was back to her usual bowl of cherries as she rested her paw on his knee. “It’s looking more and more like your past wasn’t a happy one.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but I still want to know.” His good eyelight burned strongly in his socket and even the weaker of the two managed to become visible briefly. “I want to prove that Dr. Gaster didn’t hurt Sans, that he-- that  _ I  _ am good, and… I just want to be whole again… Even if it hurts.”

Toriel wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “No matter what dear know that we are here for you: Myself, Frisk, Papyrus, Alphys, and even Asgore we want to see you happy. If or when your memories come back please talk to us. We all care about you dear.”

She started to pull away but he clung to her, “I know… I’m not supposed to say it anymore… but, if I am bad will you still be there?”

Frisk couldn’t resist anymore they turned the hug into a group one as they practically threw themself in Aster’s lap, “Y-you were ne--ever bad.” A rattle clicked against Frisk as they clung to their boney friend but it only encouraged them to squeeze tighter.

He wrapped a hand around Toriel’s arm, then the other around Frisk’s, “Thank you.” A moment longer then he let both of them go as he stilled the rattling. “Can I ask why you guys are so upset by the knife?”

“Of course you may,” Asgore nodded, “one nearly identical to this was gifted our child.”

“We had no idea where it came from,” Toriel added.

“Well, where did it come from?” Aster asked Frisk.

Frisk bowed their head to avoid the look that came from their adoptive parents, ‘Not me.’ His brows sunk over his sockets as he tried to place what other children of Toriel’s he had met. ‘They umm…’

“We had two wonderful, valiant, children who wanted to be heroes to our people,” Asgore started his eyes already so tired from the short glimpse to the past. “They, passed away very young hoping to do just that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aster tugged at the collar of his shirt.

For once Toriel considered Asgore before she placed her paw on top of his. This was a hurt that only they could understand, no matter their differences now they had to carry it together. “The knife well… Asriel, our youngest, wanted nothing to do with such a thing. Standard weapons in general always seemed to upset him,” her smile was soft as she thought of the young prince.

“Chara on the other hand,” Toriel nibbled her lip, “they understood that sacrifices were necessary at far, far, too young an age. They swore upon that knife to fight any human that came down the mountain so we wouldn’t have to.” Aster flipped open the notebook and Frisk watched as he penciled down ‘CHARA’. “Our little knight to our little prince. It seemed cute at first but…” Her eyes watered, “We failed to recognize their resolve.”

Asgore pat the top of her paw, “So we lost both of them.”

Aster wiped at his sockets, “I’m so sorry,” he scratched something in that strange symbol font into the notebook and then shut it. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to lose your family.”

“Thank you,” Toriel said politely, “now come, let us speak of merrier subjects!”

Frisk stared at the notebook for a long while, what did Aster know? They looked up to him as he finally got to talk about Asgore’s greenhouse. He didn’t seem perturbed by it at the moment but he knew something about them, about Chara. Frisk’s feelings for that name were still so conflicted even after all of this time but a morbid fascination with knowing the spirit they’d never really met still crept up on them. 

The rest of the evening dwindled away until it was past time to say good bye to Asgore and move just another day closer to the week. Toriel went to bed shortly after, questions about how her conference went would have to wait. Frisk had helped Aster up to his bedroom at his own insistence that he sleep there. They  found themselves desperate for a sleep that was having difficulties coming. Partly due to their racing thoughts of lost children and due to the light in the next room over illuminating the hall. 

For a while they found themselves dozing off just to startle back awake with the thought that they had never fallen asleep in the first place. When they rolled over to discover it was nearly two in the morning they decided they couldn’t stand it any longer. The covers weighed a ton as they unfolded them from over them. They fumbled their way into their big white slippers and stumbled into Aster’s room.

A soft creak came as they pushed the cracked door open just a little bit further but Aster didn’t seem perturbed in the least. His dresser drawer was open exposing the extra notebooks he had found around the house as he worked out of two at the same time. He was laying across his bed on his stomach frantically writing down anything that came to mind. In his haste he knocked over the black rabbit plush that had been at his elbow with a soft gasp he quickly retrieved it and brought it back to rest against him.

He ripped out a page and tossed it at Frisk’s feet which lead his eyes to discover their presence. Aster laid entirely still as if Frisk was one of those dinosaurs that only saw movement. “A-Aster y-you need to- to- to s-sleep t-too,” their stammer was worse in their half aware state.

“I know, I know,” he muttered as his pen bounced in his fingers, “and I will… soon.”

Their fluffed up mop of bedhead tapped a little harder than intended against the door, ‘Aster it’s two have you been to sleep at all?’ His eyes widened and he moved to see the clock on the side of his bed,  _ so no. _

‘I am almost ready for bed.’ He declared with smooth Hands.

Frisk laughed at that, ‘What are you even working on?’ They staggered over to the edge of the bed to squint over the mass of notebooks and the varying Common to WingDings that sprawled across the pages.

‘Well,’ he signed, ‘I was getting ready for bed and then I remembered that weird feeling that Toriel left me? It was bothering me so I wrote it down.’ He grabbed the notebook from behind him, “I tried to think on that feeling more and I figured out it was because someone died that she left. Not anything I did. But I feel like I might have had something to do with the death in the first place? I don’t know.”

“After hearing about Chara… I wonder if I had something to do with that… but that was a dead end. All I remember about Chara was the roof of the castle.” The roof of the castle? Was that a saying or something? “But then I was thinking about being upset and how it makes you feel hot and I think I figured out how the toaster works!” he flipped through several drawings he’d done of what he thought the inside of a toaster was. Luckily, he had learned very quickly that dismantling household appliances was something he needed permission to do. (RIP Microwave)

“I was going to show it to Alphys when she comes over this week and see if I was right! Then that got me thinking about Alphys though and how I don’t really have any of the weird feelings about her but she has some connection to Sans I just know it and--”

Frisk had a goofy grin on their face as they tossed a discarded wad of paper at his skull, ‘Go to sleep Aster!’

He laughed a genuine laugh that almost sounded like it was processed through a machine not a normal sound that someone could make. Something about it was infectious though: Frisk tried to cover their mouth but they found themselves laugh as well. They had no idea if it was from exhaustion or mirth but they were both rolling with it. Until they could calm themselves into stuttering gasping breaths that left them both exhausted across the bed. “Hey Frisk?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m tired now.”

‘Don’t get me started again,’ Frisk bapped him lightly in the shoulder but he winced all the same. ‘I’m so sorry! Is it still bothering you?’

“A little,” he stated plainly, “but it’s fine.” They laid there content not to move for a while longer before Frisk finally decided neither of them could sleep like this.

They slipped off the bed with a large stretching yawn, ‘I like it when you’re happy.’

He averted his good eye, “I do too. Sorry if I haven’t quite been myself lately.” His fingers pressed against each other as he rested his chin on the bed.

‘Hey it’s all okay, you’ve been through so much lately.’

“And the worst is just ahead.”

‘Don’t say that,’ Frisk stomped their foot angrily, ‘Aster you’re going to be fine.’

“My heads so full though, somewhere on these pages is who I was, I’m so close Frisk I can feel it,” he pressed his fists to the side of his skull. “What if I just wake up and I’m someone else?”

‘That won’t happen,’ Frisk stated with utmost confidence.

“How do you know?” he rocked his head to rest comfortably on one hand to gaze at them inquisitively

‘What’s your favorite memory?’

“I don’t--”

‘Sure you do! What’s your favorite thing that you remember without a doubt in your mind?’

He thought about it for a moment, ‘I… I liked the Snowball fight with Sans and Papyrus. I wasn’t very good at it but you and Papyrus were so happy! Oh! Or when Alphys let me look at her blueprints!” He gasped excitedly, “Or Cinakitties!”

‘See?’ Frisk smiled, ‘You have so many new memories now! Those won’t just go away as your old ones come back.’

“Are you sure?”

‘Absolutely! Cause I won’t let you forget!’

His sockets grew darker as black tears built up in the base of them, he rubbed at them frantically smearing black over his cheekbones. “Thank you Frisk.”

‘What Toriel said is true,’ Frisk smiled boldly, ‘we all care about you Aster!’

“I care about all of you too, so much, I’m so happy I got to meet your friends Frisk! And see the trees, and the sky, and read books.” His fond soft posture shrunk just a bit, “I’m still scared, I’m still really really scared, but… I think I will be okay as long as you’re around.”

Aster really was amazing. Frisk gave him one last squeeze before they helped him pick up his notebooks and tuck both him and his bun in for the night. Aster had thought it was silly to tuck the bunny in but he curled around it regardless. A soft stuttering good night and Frisk moved back to their own room. 

They didn’t doubt that it would be long before his memories returned a part of them really was uncertain as to who Aster once was but… At the same time. They knew Aster. Whoever Gaster was couldn’t have been anything but good. They curled under their blankets and fell asleep with a smile on their face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit late on this one updating... Because someone with a tomato allergy didn't read the back of the bottle on their pizza sauce =.= I can handle super processed tomatoes really well (like ketchup) but I can't do anything that boasts of being 'all natural' like this one did. Totally my fault haha Sometimes though you just want to make pizza bagels like you used to :P
> 
> Enough personal nonsense! This chapter was written in a bit of a haste because I wrote what I thought was the next chapter then as I sat on it I realized I needed a tiny bit of an interlude. I'm super excited for the next update! It's been a minute since I've had a chapter write itself :) See ya then!

**Author's Note:**

> We are going to alternate from time to time who our lead narrator is but we have to wait a little bit for friend to be a bit more with it.
> 
> Again this one is going to update every other week to allow a bit more care with editing. I also want to try to keep my Tumblr a bit more integrated this time.
> 
> As it stands I hope you enjoyed!


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